


Summer Eclipse

by Winterwords



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angst, Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-11-11 01:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11138925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterwords/pseuds/Winterwords
Summary: Technically Noct hadn’t failed his third Royal Arms trial, but that didn’t mean it was time to celebrate and relax. Not after he ordered his alpha Shield to bind to a suppressed omega anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look. I don't know. I just wanted to mesh up alpha/beta/omega stuff. Plus writing angst is therapeutic.

The rain wasn’t something that normally bothered Gladio. Even a nasty storm didn’t upset him too much. But today? Fuck today. Today the rain was just another notch on a long list of things that went wrong.

When lightning had the audacity to strike close to their small procession he spat out every curse word he could. Fuck Ramuh too…assuming Ramuh was even around. Where any of the Astral around anymore? Because fuck them too.

Noctis glanced behind at him. Gladio was sure the prince wasn’t vocally cursing anything but inside the future king must have been screaming.

Today was a sack of Catoblepas shit.

Ignis paused at the head of the convoy and held out an arm to stop the two behind him.

“What?” Noctis asked and a large crack of lightning and roar of thunder answered him first.

“We should back track a bit,” Ignis declared turning around. “The path ahead is too dangerous. We’ll have to circle around.”

“No! Screw that!” Gladio barked. “All the paths are going to be muddy. We’re almost out of here.”

Ignis frowned and motioned to the path. “I’m not talking about mud.”

Gladio and Noctis peered ahead at the sudden dip in the trail and the rushing water that had broken free of its stream.

“We wait any longer in getting out of here and all the paths are going to be flooded.” Gladio eyed the water cautiously. It didn’t look that deep.

“It doesn’t look like that bad.” Noctis agreed. Gladio was sure the prince wanted to get to safety as soon as possible too. He was actually surprised Noctis wasn’t showing signs of fatigue but that was probably due to...no. Nope. Gladio wasn’t going to think about.

Ignis took a deep breath. Another crack of lightning. Another roar of thunder. “Fine.” He swiveled around with a jerk and marched forward. The advisor was also on his last thread of sanity.

Gladio tightened his grip on the body in his arms. Not that dropping Prompto would save the blond from getting wet - hours of maddening downpours had seen that all of them were drenched - but he didn’t need any more harm to come to the young man.

At least the rain had washed away most of the dried blood and dirt. Although Prompto had gone from looking feverish and pained to pale and lifeless. Gladio wasn’t sure if the rain alone was responsible for that change or….other things.

He made sure not to look at the blond’s neck as he pulled him closer and forded the waters. He needed to keep his mind clear until they returned to camp. In camp, he told himself, he could review his list of everything that was wrong – including the damn rain.

Fuck the rain.

The flooded path caused them little problems, besides Noctis’s boot slipping off. The prince managed to grab the shoe before the current got it and didn’t even bother to empty it out before putting it back on.

Muddy, flooded trails turned into cobbled pathways which turned into paved walkways. The hopeful sight of clearing out of Malmalam Thicket turned sour when none of their chocobos appeared.

“It is a rather terrifying storm,” Ignis commented, knowing the birds had long since fled.

Noctis whistled and whistled and gave up with infuriating sigh. He stomped his first foot forward and didn’t bother to instruct the other two. Either they stood there in the rain waiting for it to end - and subsequently night to come - or walked to camp.

Gladio made another note on his list: chocobos.

Noctis took the lead, trying to march them right in the middle of the road. Ignis quickly put a stop to that.

“Somebody has to see us in the middle of the road.” Noct whined.

“Nobody is going to see anything in all the wind and rain.” Ignis huffed. “And nobody is out driving in this. Especially this far south.”

Gladio wondered if they would be better off if a truck just smashed right into them. He wondered what the headlines back in Insomnia would say. He wondered if the articles would bother with the truth or try to make something better up.

It wasn’t like they had failed. Noctis now had three of the Royal Arms in his possession. To write that the prince’s trip had failed after the fact wouldn’t make for good history or a legacy.

No. He figured the article would be mostly about him and the body in his arms. About the-

Gladio accidently glanced down at the bruising, swollen mark on the blond’s neck. He figured he would want to bite it again. He thought this was all supposed to be natural and pleasant. But just the small glance made his stomach churn and a shiver crawl down his back. Thankfully all the rain caused any smells to be washed thoroughly away.

At the very top of his list was Prompto.

He wanted to curse ‘Fuck Prompto’ in his mind but the double meaning felt jagged in his thoughts. He should have wanted to mate with the body, assuming his royal highness didn’t mean for the bond to be some sort of nonphysical, pack binding bond. The details of the bite weren’t exactly outlined in all the commotion of panicked screaming and deafening thunder.

Thus far though, Gladio had no interest in sex. Not anymore anyway. He was somewhere between dropping the body and running away; screw duty and his job and everything, he could live alone in some small shack off the map. Or he could grip more firmly to the body that was now physically and mentally attached to him for the rest of his life.

It had been easy enough to have a meaningless crush on the personification of sunshine and summer. He had settled into the fact that the blond would only ever be masturbation material until he was finally given an approved mate. It never bothered him that Prompto was Noctis’s best friend, just another member of the pack, supposedly a latent beta, and would never be anything more.

He imagined eventually Sunshine would find a mate. A good mate too or Gladio would strangle whoever made the blond cry. He figured it would be Cindy. Or the boy that worked at the photography shop. Or anybody. It wasn’t like Prompto had a lack of crushes. Sunshine and Summer liked everybody; all smiles and awkward happiness.

Except now Gladio’s memories of Sunshine and Summer felt rotten. All those smiles. All those bouncy, happy laughs and giggles. All the times the young man shrugged off worries and fear with light-hearted banter. All those times might have been rehearsed and acted. When the body in his arms woke up he worried he would meet a different person entirely. Assuming the body woke up.

The slog across the bridge to Telghey Haven seemed an eternity. The rain never stopped as if the storm itself was locked ontop of them.

“First thing: change of clothes. All of us,” Ignis instructed seeing the camp. “Dry clothes. Everybody in the tent.”

Thankfully Gladio didn’t have to add campsite to his list. The haven remained well intact for surviving the storm thus far.

In a blur of flesh and cloth, the trio traded soaked, filthy clothes for dry ones. Before Gladio could even hesitate, Ignis began removing the blond’s clothes. Noctis dug into photographer’s pack.

“See, suppressants,” the prince held up a bottle. “I told you.”

Gladio eyed the bottle. He swore Prompto had just been taking some anti-anxiety stuff.

“Not now,” Ignis sighed, holding in his patience. “Clothes. His pajamas.”

Noctis gave an indignant huff but tossed the chocobo briefs and tank top to the advisor.

“You need to bite him again,” Ignis told Gladio.

“Shouldn’t he be awake for that?” Gladio asked.

“It’s not an option we have now. The gland needs to be exuded. Next time he’ll be awake.”

“His wrist is broken too,” Noctis added.

“I’m aware.” Ignis muttered trying not to sound frustrated. “First we get him dry. Clothes. Bite. I need to check for more injuries. He might have hurt himself more. Check the bags for any potions, please, Noct.”

Or I hurt him more, thought Gladio. He didn’t say anything. He just helped Ignis change the body’s clothes and then tried not to think too much when he sunk his teeth into the already bruised and battered neck.

Gladio had read zero books on mating, bonding, and the dynamics of packs. He read a pamphlet once.

Well.

Half a pamphlet.

What he knew came from just growing up and generally living in society. Plus he’d been present when Noctis went against every order ever and mate bonded Ignis to him. So he knew whatever…blood? (he should have read about this) he drank from the scent gland in the blond’s neck was supposed to taste good. Society told him he was supposed to be addicted to the fluid during the bonding. He was supposed to not want to leave the body’s side.

Yet Sunshine and Summer made him nauseous. It was foul and bitter. It was dead leaves and winter. Not to mention Prompto did not smell good during all this. Gladio would have complained about it but neither Noct or Ignis seemed to be bothered by the reek.

“The bottle’s half full,” Noctis said. “You think he forgot to take it?”

“Noct, please,” Ignis sighed. “Get me some bandages. Get Prompto’s bedroll out too. Please.”

Gladio pulled away and forced himself not to immediately push the body away from him.

“It’s the drug. Probably,” Ignis saw Gladio’s distaste and frown. “It’ll get better.”

Eventually the storm died to a gently shower. Eventually Ignis cleared Prompto to just sleep. Noctis prepared cup noodles and they ate in silence, confuse, and relief.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. They all knew that.

“He must have forgotten,” eventually Noctis spoke. “We’ve been so busy.”

"Yes. I suppose,” Ignis absently agreed. He rubbed his temples. The rain, for the first time in a while, sounded soothing and calm against the tent sides.

Eventually they’d have to explain how the future king’s Shield ended up suddenly bonded to the young man everybody knew as just a permanently latent beta. Prompto was supposed to be unscented, like a third of the population of the Lucis Kingdom. So Gladio didn’t care how it happened. He wanted to know why Sunshine and Summer had hidden it.

Then Gladio suddenly didn’t care about anything and he felt rather peculiar about that. Then he felt nauseous again, briefly, only to suddenly feel like his muscles were about to quit his body. It was strange for a few moments before turning into one of the most painful things he had ever felt.

He thought he heard Ignis and Noctis call out to him but darkness overwhelmed him too quickly to think properly.

  
He added one last thing to his list: passing out. He didn’t like. Fuck that. Fuck today.


	2. Chapter 2

Noctis jerked awake, not even realizing he had dozed off. Gladio was gripping his shoulders and glaring at him with a concerned expression.

“What happened?” The Shield asked with a slurred tone. The large man drew away and began to press his hands against his cheeks, feeling the puffed muscles there.

“Poison,” Noctis said.

The Shield slumped back on his legs and looked around with confusion. “Poison?”

“I guess. That’s Iggy’s best guess anyway.” Noctis would’ve sounded more worried had not been up most of the night. He was certain he was the first prince to have such troubles with his Royal Arms trials. All these traditions and rules were not only driving him insane but he was now convinced it was the cause of his pack’s woes.

‘Only the pack must be present’ Noctis sneered at the rule in his mind. Had he a troop of Kingsglaive this whole situation would be taken care of it. No walking to the tomb in pounding heat. No walking back to camp in an angry storm. He could have requested something more than chocobos for traveling.

Plus he was fairly confident they’d have never been ambushed by those killer bees and wasps with an official escort. Prompto would have never fallen into that nest. His best friend would never have been brutally stung by the recently hatched larva – which Ignis was now positive caused not only suppressants to become ineffective, but the omega’s paranoia and subsequent affliction.

Not to mention Gladio who had been indirectly affected by that same poison.

“Prompto got poisoned. The bees.” Noctis explained.

“But we checked for-”

“It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t any of the adults. We didn’t even see any of the pricks until later.”

In place of his tank top, Prompto’s chest was wrapped up. His right side was severely bloated and even thru the badges some pus was oozing out. His breath came in and out in raspy spurts and an obvious fever made his skin shine with a sweat.

“We got out all these little needles. Ignis put them in a bag. I guess nobody thought the larva were dangerous.”

“Where is Iggy?”

“He’s probably out trying to find reception.”

Gladio frowned at him.

“He’s out. I dunno.” The prince didn’t bother to find his advisor via their bond. He was too tired for that and figured Ignis wouldn’t want to be disturbed. His mountain of energy faded half way through changing bandages and keeping wet, cool rags on the foreheads of his delirious pack mates.

The last two times it had been Noctis who needed tending to after a trial. After each ceremony at the tomb he was left shattered and weak. He the same frailty after the third ceremony too, but when Prompto’s mind broke wild energy flushed back into him. He hadn’t felt so filled with strength since he started the trials.

A part of him still felt guilty that the energy and fortitude Ignis provided wasn’t anywhere near the feral surge that Prompto had inadvertently fed to the pack. Ignis assured him this was because adult, bond-less omegas shouldn’t exist and there was no shame in the energy Noctis absorbed. Ignis calculated they would have all been dead without Prompto’s secret being flung out into the open. They would have never been able to fend off all the swarms and make it back to camp.

“You sure you don’t know where Ignis is?” Gladio pushed the question again.

“I’m not a cell phone.” Noctis frowned back. He would call his advisor but Ignis was the only one with a phone and even that was ‘bending the rules’. Having a large supply of potions was ‘bending the rules’ too.

“Ignis knows where you all the time.”

“Not all the time.”

Gladio appeared to have a response but drew back, rubbing as his cheeks again. Then he rubbed at sore arm muscles and legs muscles. At the Shield’s muscle had only seized a few times during the night; Prompto’s were still randomly tensing up and causing his friend to spasm in misery.

The tent flap snapped open and a flustered advisor peeked inside. He sighed in relief at the appearance of Gladio being awake. “I’m leaving. I’m going back to town and getting the Regalia.” He tossed the cell phone to Noctis.

“That’s a long walk,” Noctis replied.

“Yes. It is. If you get any reception at all keep trying to contact the castle. We need to get to a town as soon as possible.”

“I can go with you,” Noctis suggested. Any exhaustion he felt was replaced with momentary panic. He was up all night, yes, but his advisor had been helping. He didn’t want to be left alone in a tent that reeked of despair and sickness. He didn’t want to be alone with his mistake.

Ignis held up a hand. “This is not up for debate.”

“I’m stiff, but I can change bandages.” Gladio didn’t sound as confident as he normally was. “I don’t need watching. Take Noctis with you.”

“No. Even sick you can probably make a decent attempt at fighting.” Ignis pushed his glasses up his nose. “Your first duty is to the prince. It’s safer at a haven. The third trial is over. I can return with the car and we can head to Lestallum.”

Noctis wanted Gladio to argue but he knew he wouldn’t. The advisor disappeared as quickly as he appeared. Then returned.

“Gladio,” Ignis took a deep breath, “I am sorry. I apologize. I did not know poison was a factor in all this.”

Gladio nodded. “Yeah.”

Noctis bit his lip. He should be apologizing. He had allowed a wild, drugged omega in his pack. Not to mention the tattoo they found on Prompto’s wrist. (Noct knew Ignis knew more than he would say, but let his advisor keep him in the dark for the sake of sanity.) He had let Prompto by-pass any tests or exams from Kingsglaive officials. Then he let selfishness control his decision to force Gladio to bind with the unhinged omega. Just because he wanted Ignis all to himself he might ruined his Shield’s reputation and future.

But, of course, it was Ignis who was apologizing.

“I’ve instructed Noct how to lance the bitten gland. After we’re sure the poison is gone it’ll be safe to continue the bonding process.”

Gladio nodded and Ignis left again.

Noctis bowed his head and looked away. He attempted an ‘I’m sorry’ but it got stuck in his throat. It was possible to stop the bond now, but Gladio wouldn’t fare very well for several weeks as he suffered through withdrawal. Prompto wouldn’t be any better off – assuming he survived the poison. Having them both out for weeks and weeks would mean it would just be Ignis and him for the next trials; and there was no way two people were going to complete the Royal Arm trials without help.

He could request more pack members but that’d take even more time. He’d have to approve them. Ignis would have to approve them. The Glaive and his father would have to approve them. They’d have to practically live together for weeks until their scents balanced out, not to mention having to learn to fight together and Noct being close enough to them to share his magic.

Forced pack cohesion was never a recommended thing. Only the Glaives did such a thing and even then some type of bite bonding would be included to help the process along….and there was no way Noct was going to bond – platonic or otherwise – to some “hired” pack member. And there was an extra no way he’d let Ignis bind to anybody. Ever.

Noct should have been the one to get Prompto under control. He should have accepted his place as alpha leader and just bitten him. He should have-

“Are antidotes not working?” Gladio broke the silence.

“Not really,” Noctis was glad for the change of topic and to be away from his thoughts. “Ignis said our supply is just general use but we’ve used it all. It helped you a bit. But no antidote has been made to treat larva needles.”

Gladio just nodded again, his gaze fallen to the pale, haggard body.

“Hungry?” Noctis switched the subject again, pleading mentally that Gladio didn’t bring up the matter of the bond.

“Yeah,” Gladio said not taking his eyes off the blond.

Noctis was glad to have an excuse to leave and took his time warming up more cup noodles.


	3. Chapter 3

If it were possible to leave shoe prints in cement, Ignis was certain his anger would have stomped a trail of prints in the road.

He had spent hours trying to figure out how to just start the phone conversation to the citadel only to have the cell phone not find any signal not matter what he tried. He could only assume the storm had knocked out more than just trees – trees that lined the roadway. The last thing he needed was to find one that blocked the road entirely.

He could, of course, had taken the phone with him. That would leave Noct without any way to contact help. Even if Prompto died and Ignis was lost, the Shield and prince could track onward and call help.

And at this point a portion of the advisor’s mind fought with the idea that they would all be better off if the omega passed on them.

Honestly. It was bad enough he was going to have to explain that the prince let a suppressed omega into the pack and into the official Crownsguard. Then that wasn’t it. That suppressed omega had a Niflheim tattoo on his wrist. And then. Then he had to explain Gladio was now bound to that suppressed omega from Niflheim.

Ignis was glad to be alone to fume. He was grateful to be away from that rancid smell and the heavy, thick emotion of desperation. He needed time to consider what to do next.

First he’d have to get Gladio and Prompto treatment without raising an alarm. He’d have to turn hotel rooms into a makeshift hospital. The Kingsglaive would be dispatched with their official doctors and treatment specialists.

He needed to make sure the needles they collected were given to the castle pharmacy for research. One for a general antidote and two for the idea that the poison caused suppressants to fail.

Prompto’s background would be dug up and studied. His mother would be quarantined and questioned. All records of his father would be dug up too. As far as Ignis knew, Prompto was an orphan from the Duscae providence. The paperwork said he was born on a farm. His family killed in a Niflheim attack. His adoptive father, a member of the Lucis army, died in battle.

Ignis could only assume this was all lies.

Had Noct bothered to read any of the spy and security reports provided by the Glaive and Guard he would recognize the tattoo as Magitek troop numbers. Incidents of finding escapees spoke of humans mutated and feral. Sometimes the Glaive found arms severed off with the tattoos. Sometimes they found bodies. Sometimes they found half alive beings who spewed overwhelming oppression and anguish all around them; omegas, alphas, and betas were all rendered useless until the latent betas of the Glaive could kill the thing.

The overall consensus was Niflheim had laboratories for purposively “studying” scent and emotional manipulation. The Glaive had studied the bodies of Magitek infantry enough to assess the beings were probably once humans; alphas, omegas, and betas that had been modified to fight as some sort of robotic-like pack with enhanced abilities.

Well, study as best they could before the bodies dissolved into black sludge and dried into dust.

It would have been nice to know if, when Prompto died, would melt into that sludge and dust as well. Would Gladio now too? Ignis couldn’t possible fathom the dread and uncertain the Shield would now face. Gladio read the reports. Maybe Gladio would tell Noct about the tattoo. Maybe Gladio would flat out quit his duty to the crown after being commanded to bind himself to a poisoned, suppressed, Nilfheim experiment.

Ignis felt such guilty for telling the Shield the blond had only passed out because of the drugs. It was well documented that elongated periods of suppression can cause the one bitten to pass out. Surely, he thought, that’s all it was when the savage omega lost consciousness.

Whatever.

Ignis couldn’t worry about that. He wanted Noct in the dark as long as possible anyway. Having to calm down and stabilize the alpha after the truth came out was not a task Ignis looked forward too.

His fast stride turned into a hasty jog. He hoped somewhere the Astrals were listening to his pleas to give him enough strength to make it through it the day. The gods hadn’t been kind to any of them lately.

\------------------

Prompto thought he had woken up, but he could be sure. He couldn’t open his eyes.

Nor he could hardly move. It felt like he had somehow run a marathon with every muscle in his body; like he had run on his arms as well as legs. His neck muscles felt replaced with stones. He couldn’t breathe; his sinuses were either swollen or stuffed. Or both. His throat was on fire. His mouth dry and lips puffy and cracked.

Oh Astrals, he felt miserable. He couldn’t place why though. It was like a flu but greatly intensified and maximized. Maybe his mind was stuffed up too because he couldn’t come up with any reasonable, long term thoughts.

I’m sick. I’m sick. I hurt. Water. I’m sick. Water. Hurt.

Whoever was with him figured out the water bit quickly. He was so relieved to have just a trickle of the cool liquid dripped in his mouth.

Then he was heaved upward into a sitting position. His body and mind reeled in pain as pillows and blankets were piled behind his back. Once up though, his sinuses popped and he was able to get some air through one nostril.

Who would have thought it felt so good to have just a miniscule air flow through one half of his nose. He was thankful to be upright.

Somebody gave him more water. Somebody rubbed at his temples and cheeks causing more pain relief from the inflamed sinuses he was fighting.

He felt absolutely wretched but the touch was cool, comforting, and alleviating. Anywhere the hands rubbed his seizing muscles momentarily relaxed. Sometimes even another set of hands of joined.

Then another small trickle of water.

He was trapped in ceaseless pain, a struggle to breathe, and hands that provided relief and water.

Somewhere in all of it he was carried to another place. Maybe? He felt himself being put into different positions and wishing he could cry out. One time he managed to pass a whine out of his lips when the hands moved around his chest with a wet rag and bandages.

More water. Sleep? Maybe? More hands rubbing at exhausted, tensed muscles.

Then sometime later – maybe an hour, maybe years – Prompto could feel a prick in his arm, a needle, and then a blessedly cold liquid washing into his veins. He hadn’t even realized he was hot.

Then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for kudos and comments :)


	4. Chapter 4

The car ride to Lestallum had been a nightmare. Ignis drove as fast as possible until the rain returned. Their speed slowed considerably after that. The roof and windows had to be closed and the four of them were locked in the confined space with the stench of distress and death. 

Gladio sat in the back holding onto Prompto, who had deteriorated significantly, and tried desperately to coax muscles to stop cramping. Gladio knew exactly where the worst of Prompto’s pain was, when he craved water the most, when he fell into erratic unconsciousness, and, worst of all, when the blond’s heart spasmed. 

Had he time or thought to spare he would have been preparing for his own death as well. Nobody grew up in Lucis without being bombarded with warnings about ‘when to bond’ and ‘when not to bond’. Of course there was the ever present push to make sure teenagers, overwhelmed by new smells and the emotions brought on by those smells, didn’t partake in bonding.

But then there were the more threatening warnings and the heartbreaking stories that accompanied them. Never, ever bind to anybody sick or injured. During the weeks it took for the bond to form the individuals involved were too sensitive to each other. It’s why - no matter the type of bond - the people involved usually spent the weeks relaxing in a secure environment.

Gladio and Prompto had spent the weeks Ignis and Noct bonded on vacation. Well, “vacation”. All they had to do was mope around the citadel and do whatever they wanted to do. Just as long as they remained present in case there was an attack and they had to actually do their official Crownsguard job; which they never had to do. Two and half weeks of video games, movies, snacks, naps, internet surfing, and never failing to overhear somebody bitch about the prince’s decision. 

Most of the conversations were angry it was a mate bond and neither Ignis nor Noct could carry a child; King Regis waved this off because there had been plenty of royalty that had a consort for a child or technology could allow for a child with in vitro fertilization. Gladio found it amusing the king had confided in him he was glad it was Ignis because the advisor was overly qualified to raise a royal child and was terrified Noctis wouldn’t be the most responsible father. 

Some of the overheard conversations spoke about their worries Noctis was still too weak to do anything important. Muted murmurs chatted about the prince’s fragility being copied to Ignis, who would then be considered too weak and too frail himself to be in the Crownsguard. Even worse was the idea the prince would fall ill – again – and take Ignis down with him. 

Gladio would have spoken up to defend the future king but he couldn’t deny the truth in their statements. Noctis was never the same when he returned from Tenebrae after his near-death experience. Many headlines declared the only reason he wasn’t a daemon or dead was that the crystal kept him alive; it made for angry rumors that the Lucis royalty could actually prevent the starscourge but kept it all to themselves. 

In the end, Ignis and Noctis were fine. It wasn’t like Noctis had actively been dying anyway. Not like the stories in school textbooks about bonding. Documented cases included a car crash, a pack of voretooth attacking, a farming accident, an attempted suicide, train accident, and accidental electrocution during a maintenance repair; all where one person initiated a bond on a severely wounded body to attempt to keep them alive; both die in the end. One person dying due to the physical trauma. The other person having absolutely no physical injuries but succumbing to their brain convinced they were experiencing the same trauma as well.

So yes, to Gladio, the car ride to Lestallum was nightmare. Trapped in a sequence of being poisoned himself, trying to help Prompto, and then fighting off his mind telling him he was also experiencing thirst, intense muscle spasms, and inflamed sinuses.  
Thankfully the Kingsglaive had arrived in Lestallum before they arrived. Gladio was shuffled into a hotel room where doctors were prepared to deal the situation. He was given shots and IVs – concoctions of painkillers, medications, and muscle relaxants he assumed - and sat listless in a large, comfortable chair while he watched Prompto get the care he needed. 

While he sat in his drugged fog they attempted to have a conversation with him. He couldn’t remember most it. The doctors talked about the dangers of breaking a bond that had already been strained to a great degree. Then something about approval already being pushed through by the king and the possibilities to learn more about Niflheim experiments. 

He got the part where they told him not to worry about biting Prompto for a while and gave him a vial of fluid from the blond they had cleansed to drink. He remembered it tasted good this time; like a fruity wine drink that gave him even more of a nice buzz than the drugs. He remembered they made him drool and spit into a cup and he felt infinitely silly doing so but nobody present was laughing or smirking. They said Prompto would receive what he needed and, again, told him no biting. 

He thought they asked various questions about the initial bite and if he had felt anything special or if he felt in control of his actions. He didn’t know if he answered or not. His most powerful portion of memory was leaning his head back against the chair and watching the ceiling fan spin. 

Somewhere in the midst of it he thought he remembered being allowed to go to the bathroom and eat something. Some soup that Ignis fed him and sat easy in his stomach. 

Eventually he was herded into another room and directed to bed. Prompto was brought in and laid down next to him and he fell asleep to the sound of rain. 

\-------------

It was still raining when he woke up.

He was beginning to think they’d never have a day without rain again. Maybe Ramuh was angry about something. Maybe they’d broken a rule of the trial. 

At least this time he woke up feeling comfortably sleepy and content. For the first time since the whole ordeal he was just fine with Prompto being so close to him. His stomach wasn’t upset, there wasn’t a foul taste in his mouth, his muscles were finished throwing tantrums, and he smelled nothing but hotel and disinfectant.

All his previous rage and panic was dulled by the safety of the room, the hum of an air conditioner, the gentle rise and fall of Prompto’s chest, and the muted sounds of a TV from the next room over. The headache of being able to feel the blond’s endless pain was replaced with a warm, agreeable sedative fog. 

Had the bond been settled, Gladio would have been able to detach him from Prompto whenever he wanted or when necessary. His body wouldn’t be locked into absorbing his mate’s body. 

Mate. He let the word roll around in his thoughts for a bit. He was going to have a gargantuan problem if he was expected to not let the bond include mate. All mating included bonding but not all bonding included mating. (partly because you could be bound to several others but mate bound to only one) Bonding included the transfer of saliva and scent fluid from mouth to neck gland for several days. Mate bond meant biting a scent gland in a partner’s inner thigh as well.

He knew plenty of the Glaives had mate-less bonds within a pack to enhance and strengthen abilities. Physically heavy work places had bonds too. The king was bond to his closet Crownsguard members, including Gladio’s father. Often times such bonding would include casual sex just because the bodies were so sensitive to each other. Latent betas were typically weary by the idea of having sex within their work or friend circles (Gladio never understood why only alphas, betas, and omegas were allowed to have packs and latent betas had friend/workplace groups. He would have liked to use both the words interchangeably but society liked to keep them apart). 

Bonds were just a type of communication between bodies. Something the latent betas would never understand. It was infinitely easy to know where a spy Glaive might be sneaking if another could directly see through each other’s eyes. Or if a Glaive was wounded somewhere alone and needed help. Bonds could transfer energy and stamina between bodies to a degree. If a traumatic incident did occur, and the bond was settled, then the wounded individual’s chance at surviving doubled by having access to another’s life force. If there was a mate bond in place then the chance of survival tripled because of the bond’s intensity. 

At this point, Ignis could even forfeit his life and give it to Noct if the prince was mortally wounded. That was how Noct’s mother perished; the kingdom mourned for weeks. Gladio didn’t like to think about it.  
He tried to remember if the doctors had mentioned anything about the bond and came up with nothing. 

He dropped the thoughts. Prompto was recovering now but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a long way to go before…well, before he wasn’t sure what would happen. On a tactical level, having an omega in the pack would help them. Most Glaives tried to include one omega in each pack. 

Omegas were batteries. They were generators of scents and emotions that could encourage and enhance any alpha, beta, or other omega – well, they could, that is. Unbound omegas were like live wires; sparking out energy to anybody in the vicinity because they were so sensitive to others around them. Not only was it dangerous to the general public but the omegas themselves could experience extreme fatigue at best and death and coma at worst. 

Omegas were the first to bind too, mate or otherwise, just to make sure they were safe. Any alpha or beta could effectively keep omegas from feeling too much at once. An unbound omega was quickly overwhelmed by the world. 

Lucis, Accordo, and, until recently, Tenebrae had been fair and equal on omegas. Hundreds of years ago they’d be forced into mating or binding at an extremely early age. Some even bound before puberty and then bound again after puberty. History told stories about omegas being constantly bound and expected to give up their energy until death. Niflheim was known to keep the old ways of segregating and controlling its alpha, beta, and omega population. There were rumors after the fall of Tenebrae that Niflheim had imposed their rules on its newly acquired land too. 

But now all omegas, at least in Lucis, had special school sessions to train themselves to focus their scents and emotions. Teenage omegas were allowed suppressants as long as they were documented on national archives and signed agreements to be bound by age eighteen. If nobody suitable for a bound was found by eighteen there were always exceptions made. Lucis only wanted the best for all its population and taking suppressants for any elongated amount of time could cause the user to become detached from reality and suffer a lack of concentration and control. 

Gladio tried to image how space-outed Prompto must have been all the time, especially considering he didn’t know when the omega had first started the drugs, and how hard the blond had probably fought to be in control. Not to mention the suppressants must have not only kept his abilities and glands neutralized, but kept his heats away. 

Gladio grimaced at the thought. He was touching himself by thirteen and had a rut at sixteen. Ruts were okay – tolerable only because he got off work to masturbate for a day and another day to sleep away the fatigue. He had been offered rut suppressants only in case it interfered with work but never had to take them. But sex? Sex was always good. 

Lucis always made sure to have safe places for alpha, betas, and omegas to go during heats and ruts. There was a very healthy, affluent industry developed around sex for such individuals. Often managed by the latent betas whose glands and abilities never developed and staffed by specially trained alphas, betas, and omegas. If Gladio had a choice of career that would have been it. Paid to have sex. Paid extra when he got ruts to take care those in heat. No biting ever. But he’d figured it was a good trade off anyway. 

The Shield rolled over on his side to face the blond. He reached over to gently rub a hand over Prompto’s forehead and into his hair. He would never admit to the sex dreams he had that always ended up with him doing exactly what he was now; albeit Prompto was awake and didn’t have an IV in his arm. 

Then instinct nudged at him to check the blond’s neck to see if the scent gland needed to be cared for and he hastily reminded himself ‘no biting’. At least that much he could remember.  
Sleep murmured over and around him until the door open and in shuffled Kingsglaive doctors. 

“Just a check-in.” somebody told him in the mess. 

“Just keeping up with medications.” Another voice said. “Relax.”

Hands pushed him back on his back. A needle administered something. They gave him another vial of Prompto that tasted even better than previously. He did want more. 

Pulses checked. Temperatures checked. A new bag of fluid to replace the empty one that led to the IV in Prompto’s arm. More needles.

“Hey, am I, uh, supposed to do anything?” Gladio tried asking the crowd.

“Sleep,” somebody answered him.

“No, I mean, the bond.”

“No biting.”

“Yeah, okay, I got that, but-”

The doctors glanced at each other. 

“Is this a mate bond? Have you previously engaged in fornication?” one of them asked, confused. 

“Uh,” Gladio wasn’t sure how to answer. “Well, I mean, no. No sex.” Of course Gladio hadn’t had sex with him. That was a stupid question. Latent betas did not have sex with anybody but other latent betas. And alphas, betas, and omegas only had sex amongst themselves. 

That never stopped Gladio from imaging how the blond would smell as he orgasmed. He had pictured plenty of times the waves of scent and emotions that’d roll off the blond body and over to him. Did they expect him to have tried sex with somebody who didn’t smell? Who didn’t give off waves of pleasurable emotions? (Gladio would have tried it but was never going to admit it. Not even to himself.)

Or did they mean when the first bite happened? Having sex in the middle of a storm in Malmalam Thicket with killer bees and wasps attacking wouldn’t have been the best idea. 

“So this isn’t a mate bond?” the same one asked. “During our examination there were no marks his thighs.” 

“I, uh, I wasn’t…I don’t….,” Gladio stumbled over words. Obviously none of them saw this as a mate bond and it was obvious neither Gladio or Prompto were able-bodied enough to be having any sex currently. Plus the doctors would have been under the assumption that Gladio wouldn’t have been allowed a mate until after Noctis took the throne. The Shield had better things to do than divert his attention to anybody other than the prince – especially during the Royal Arm Trials. That’s how it normally was. Gladio’s father couldn’t have a mate until Regis was done with all his trials because, gods forbid, the Shield wouldn’t risk his life enough if he was thinking about his lover’s sake. 

“Do you want this to be a mate bond?” the same doctor kept questioning him. 

“There really hasn’t been time to…talk about this,” Gladio replied.

The doctors looked at each other again. 

“We realize this is your first bite and sometimes it’s difficult to not be hasty in choosing our mates during such a time,” another doctor spoke up, talking to Gladio like it was a parent scolding a child. “You haven’t even smelled him properly.”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gladio heard the tone and frowned. An acidic scent was beginning to waft in the room. Did they expect the blond was going to smell like shit and vomit? Gladio was fairly certain the personification of summer and sunshine was going to smell wonderful. 

“It might be dangerous to mate this particular individual,” a doctor in the back stepped forward. “We are unsure it’s a wise option for our future king’s Shield to expect to,” the doctor paused, and Gladio knew she was purposely searching a word other than ‘love’, “to expect this particular individual to be a suitable option for such an important position.”

Gladio was immediately ready to bark back but another doctor cut him off immediately. 

“We recognize he’s been your pack member for a few years now,” another began, his tone harsh and cold. “Several Glaives have latent beta pack member just for a general neutralizer. It’s always nice to fantasy about what they’d smell like and what kind of emotions they’d make you feel had they such abilities. We’ve all done that. But your friend here is an omega who has denied himself the real powers of his race. The three of you have to rebalance yourselves for the change. Have you ever fought with an omega before? No, of course you haven’t outside of training. You will now have to accept your duties as the Shield and as well as the duties of an alpha to keep him from harming himself or others.”

Gladio started to say something but the doctor just kept going. He fought without himself not to encourage angry emotions to build in the room. 

“As well as the fact we are still researching his true heritage. Perhaps he wakes up and turns into a daemon. Would you still want that as a mate? Perhaps he’s been sent here as some assassin. Would you then still want to touch somebody who is going to harm our future king? Besides, nobody wants to mate, let alone bind themselves to somebody who could still stink of Niflheim.” 

Some of the other doctors had been nodding along. Others were glaring harshly at the outspoken Glaive. 

“Omegas aren’t a race,” somebody whispered. A few hushed whispers agreed. 

Gladio was ready to punch the doctor through the wall. The bond might have been approved but it was clear several of the doctors present had reservations about Prompto’s intentions and Niflheim ancestry.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t talk about this now,” another doctor stepped forward, trying to dilute the situation. She smiled; she smelled like spring and roses and immediately began to force a serene atmosphere into the room. An omega for sure. “We’re here because there are two sick individuals who can’t continue a bond until they are healthy. We are caregivers first and we don’t want either of them to experience withdrawal on top of having to recover from their previous trauma. Our job here isn’t to choose the Shield’s mate.” She turned to Gladio. “With that being said, I think it best we add ‘no sex’ to your rules. Just for now. When Prompto is healed and, perhaps, after he is interviewed by the Glaive – please remember we are unsure of his affiliation with Niflheim – then of course you may do as you please during the bonding, as well as having a mate bond discussed. Our records thus far show Prompto has been only an asset and loyal Crownsguard member.” 

The doctor that had given him the lecture scoffed at the comment. He smelled like camphor and autumn and gave off the feeling of being looked down upon. An alpha. 

“Yeah, okay.” Gladio sighed. He let her emotion of calmness wash over him. 

“We have work.” The alpha swiveled around and headed out. Most of the others shuffled out behind him. 

The air conditioner clicked off.

“‘No comforting a touch’ isn’t a rule though,” the omega said with a sad smile. “There are lots of rumors already about a dangerous omega who tried to get the prince killed going around, as you can tell from this encounter. If he’s as strong as an omega as we believe, he’ll immediately smell the distrust. So,” she glanced out the window and then back. “Look, my dad was a refugee from Nilfheim,” she pursed her lips. “He wasn’t part of a pack or anything. He just had my mom, his alpha. And she tried but he came from work every day smelling of doubt and distrust and anger. It wasn’t his fault Nilfheim is doing what it’s doing but that didn’t stop all the others from putting that on him. And then one day my mom found him dead. So, you know, just do your job, yeah? I’ve met a lot of alphas that just do the bare minimum. Keep him safe from that junk.”

Gladio nodded silently. He was amazed that during such a blunt confession she kept herself from smelling like anything other than spring and roses. He could understand why she was an omega in Glaive. 

She left quietly with a promise it’d be another few hours before they all piled into the room again for another check-in. 

Gladio turned back on his side and pressed closer to Prompto. He let himself fall asleep rubbing a hand over the omega’s forehead and into the sunshine blond strands of hair.


	5. Chapter 5

Ignis couldn’t sleep like he should. Not even if he let the bond drag him into a fuzzy smog of exhaustion. Noctis would sleep the reminder of the afternoon, night, and probably into the morning now. The alpha finally reached a breaking point about what had happened and it had taken Ignis hours to soothe the future king.

Waves of guilt, shame, and fury gushed out from the prince. How was Noctis to know his best friend – his only friend – since elementary school had kept such secrets from him.

Then he ordered his Shield to bind to him because he didn’t like the idea of being responsible for keeping an omega healthy and secure. He should have though. He should have taken the opportunity to be the alpha leader and bound Prompto him. He didn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t think of bonds outside of his mate bond with Ignis. He didn’t want to have to feel anybody’s emotions and bodies that strongly. Sometimes Noctis couldn’t even tolerate his own body and its emotions. He often complained to his advisor he wished he had been an omega so wouldn’t have been expected to be so stable and tenacious all the time.

Then he found out his Shield was bound to a possible Niflhiem experiment; an experiment that some Glaives were convinced was a secret weapon meant to harm Noct. The prince couldn’t bear the idea he ruined his Shield’s life. And maybe Prompto’s too. If it wasn’t for the poison maybe they all could have keep all the secrets to themselves.

Ignis had to get the prince into a cold bath to fight the fever building. He sat in freezing water, his back against the wall, rubbing Noct’s shoulders and expelling nothing but tranquility and patience. The power of the crystal made the alpha’s emotions that much more intense and left him that much more feeble when it was over with, especially considering Noctis went to great lengths to keep every emotion inside of him. It also left Ignis secretly wishing he was an omega and not a beta. He would have had much more capacity to calm Noct.

After the bath the prince tried to initiate sex. Ignis wasn’t opposed but…after a few kisses Noctis was out.

So Ignis slept for a few hours. Woke up. He couldn’t find peace to sleep again so he clambered out of the bed and took a shower. Dressed and checked on Noctis again. Then hastily left hoping a walk would help sort out his uncertainty.

Outside he found a group of doctors exiting Prompto and Gladio’s room. They all nodded and greeted him before retreating to the rooms designated for Kingsglaive; which, to Ignis’s knowledge, was the entire top floor of the hotel. He hadn’t spoken to the king personally, but was told Regis sent out one of his best units to Lestallum. That meant in one of the rooms was Nyx and his pack of two, Crowe and Libertus.

Ignis regarded the pack fondly but hoped he wouldn’t run into any of them. If he had friends in the Glaive it would be them and they’d want to know details. Ignis couldn’t get the details straight yet himself.

He had already been interviewed three times by various high ranking members of the Glaive. What happened. Why did it happen. When did it happen. Is there anything he forgot. Then he had to review all his memories of Prompto; the man’s behavior, habits, hobbies, sleep patterns, eating patterns, out of the ordinary activity, anything and everything.

Cor made an appearance for one of the interviews before vanishing. Ignis assumed it wasn’t the best of situations trying to gather information while keeping it all quiet. They should be celebrating the idea of having an omega in the prince’s pack.  
Now there was only the idea there might be an execution instead. Another terrible thought Ignis tried to process. Prompto’s death would have to be covered up to the public. None of them had the same recognition as entertainers, but the public was allowed to know who was included in the prince’s official pack and Crownsguard. Plus Gladio would be out of service for months coping and it wasn’t like he and Noctis would be completely unaffected either.

Whatever secrets the young man had he had been a member of their pack. Latent beta or otherwise, Prompto’s absence would unbalance everything.

Still was. Still was a member of the pack. Ignis scolded himself.

There was still time to make everything okay though. When Prompto was healthy and coherent enough he would be interviewed and much rested on what he answered.

The best scenario was the idiot teenager he had been (still was sometimes even at twenty-two) had gotten the tattoo after hearing rumors and thought it was cool. That his background all checked out just like it was supposed to. The blame would befall a parent and/or doctor who started a child on suppressants and did not report the child as an omega. Prompto would have to quickly learn to adapt but no more harm down. Even if being off the suppressants caused his personality to change, he could still be a pack member and suitable bond for Gladio.

Not only could Prompto now cause them to be even more in sync with each other and provide any sort of extra emotional stability they needed, but he could supply them – and Gladio specifically - with energy. Many alpha Glaives had omega bounds to help keep their stamina up in battle. Gladio was already unstoppable. An omega would only make him stronger.

Maybe, Ignis thought, they could be mates. It wasn’t like Shield hadn’t told him a thousand times over how disappointed he was Prompto hadn’t developed any alpha, beta, or omega abilities. And he knew for a fact Prompto had confessed plenty of times to Noctis how attractive he found the Shield.

Maybe they’d have to deal with fallout over the Shield being bound before Noctis was king but they could manage that.

So there. Done. End of problems. Everything just rebalances itself and they move on.

The worst? A Niflheim spy. A Niflheim experiment meant to sabotage the prince’s pack. Or worst of all? A full blown daemon that could retrain a human appearance. Ignis shivered at that conclusion. How would the Glaive and Guard change their policies knowing daemons could walk amongst them, unknown and hidden. Were there more like Prompto already? Was he attempting to find a way to inflict the scourge from instead the wall?

The advisor didn’t take the elevator. Despite his fatigue he used the stairs and existed the building in the back. He passed a few undercover Glaives monitoring the outside. A quick nod let them know he was fine and just out for a bit.

He’d pick up some chips perhaps. A few bottled drinks. He should at least get Gladio a book about new bonds. Astrals only knew the Shield was stampeding right into a big mess of uncomfortable experiences. Sure, the movies made it look amazing. (which it is, at times) But ugh. Ignis spent hours in the bathroom because his body did not have a sweet tooth and had somehow absorbed Noct’s sweet tooth and oh, he should not have eaten that entire bag of chocolate bars. Nor that pack of sugar sticks. Nor that entire batch of strawberry tortes.

Noctis spent equal hours because he drank five cups of coffee. And two mochas. And a vanilla bean latte. And two cappuccinos. Oh, and a vegetation snack bar.

That was the least of their problems during the initial binding too, but he couldn’t think about now. If things worked out smoothly, he’d be dealing with not only a newly bonded pair in his pack, but an untrained omega who probably had never gone through a heat and would be smelling Gladio constantly and…Ignis shook his head. Definitely Mates. It was going to happening with or without an official approval. It was going to happen even if King Regis himself declared the bond null and told the Glaive to force a break. Once the two could clearly smell their equal attraction it was over. Ignis made a mental note they would probably need two tents in the future for a while. At least until Prompto got his body under control anyway.

All of this right in the middle of Noctis’s official Royal Arm trials. If the Glaive hadn’t already, they’d soon be making an official public statement about the success of the third trial and commenting about the prince having a rest period. Then back to the Royal Arm trials.

Then the Trial of the Astrals would happen. Maybe? Nobody had quite figured out how that would happen now that the oracles had been cut off from Lucis. Lunafreya a prisoner and Tenebrae under Niflheim control. If Noct never received approval from the gods he wouldn’t have complete control over the crystal’s power. He couldn’t maintain the wall. He wouldn’t be able to provide the Glaive all the power they received from the crystal.

Ignis ground his teeth and found his way into a convenience store. Meals would be supplied to them but he could pick out everybody’s favorite snacks and drinks. He picked up a points card for the prince to spend on phone games. Gladio would need to be kept relaxed and stationary so he piled crossword books into the basket. He hesitated on anything for Prompto. Being suddenly off such powerful suppressants could change everything he liked. Maybe photography would be something he never thought about it. Ignis picked out a photography magazine anyway and some candies shaped like chocobos.

He marched to a bookstore to get Gladio appropriate information. He picked up material for Prompto. Books for himself about suppressants and known reactions. Anything he could find on oracle practices too. He might as well start dealing with the fact that either the war would have to come to a conclusion or there would be a massive mission to retrieve Lady Lunafreya.

There was so very little he could do to help the situation right now. Helplessness was not something he tolerated at all.

At least when Gladio was healthy and, in all likelihood, tossed the books aside, he could answer the Shield’s and new omega’s questions. Ignis wondered if Prompto knew anything about Lucian alphas, betas, and omegas. The blond had spent all his time pretending to be something else and ignoring half the society he – maybe? – grew up in. Well, at least had grown up in since he was eight (as far as Ignis knew anyway). That’s then the blond and prince first became friends.

If he was truly from Niflheim his expectations would be quite a bit different from how things ran in Lucis. Lucis didn’t force standard packs of six; two alphas, three betas, and one omega. Lucis didn’t have governmental councils specifically for pairing bonds and mate bonds. The only bounds picked out were between Glaives to enhance dynamics. Perhaps even in Niflheim there were different base expectations of alphas, betas, and omegas themselves.

Omegas were generators. If somebody didn’t have the energy to perform a task the omega gave them that energy. Without having to feel certain emotions themselves, they could produce scents and emotions to influence others. Omegas were creative and motivated by their hearts. They were the artists of Lucis, as well as being excellent caregivers. They were altruistic and self-sacrificing.

Betas were currents and directors. If an omega was having trouble focusing they’d be the extra bit of stability needed to help the generator keep providing the smells and emotions needed. If an alpha was having trouble receiving energy from the generator that was also the beta’s job to keep a strong connection going. The betas were organizers and supervisors of all the scents and emotions being flung out in packs. Most bureaucrats and managers in Lucis were betas, as well as being scientists, engineers, and lawyers. Betas were practical and rational. They liked numbers and order.

Alphas were conductors and insulators. They could absorb anything sent their way without problem. And, opposite, they could block off any scent and emotion aimed at them or others. Most of the Glaive was composed of alphas. In the general public, alphas were known to take construction, public service, and entertainment jobs. Never ask an alpha to think something through before they do it. Either tell them what to do or stay out of their way. They could be just as self-sacrificing as an omega, but only to those they deemed worthy enough of their efforts.

An omega, a beta, and an alpha working together were often a holy trinity in any situation, but especially in battle.

When he returned to the hotel Ignis passed Crowe in the lobby. He was thankful she merely smiled and waved with a knowing look. Nyx might be the alpha, but she had thus far kept her two pack members from snooping around for any extra information. She wasn’t about to pester the prince’s pack. Not yet anyway.

The advisor tried to rouse the prince for dinner, but ended up eating alone on the room balcony. He paced. He tried to watch TV. He checked in on Prompto and Gladio who both appeared to be sleeping soundly. He at least found some relief that both of them were recovering so well.

Later, Crowe showed up with a soft knock and handed him the reports on the larva needles he had supplied. She informed him Prompto’s mother was currently being held in the citadel but had no further information. She left with pushing an approaching Libertus out the door with her.

Ignis read the reports twice before he gave up on crawled back into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying hard to establish the world before shit hits the fan. Thank you again for kudos and comments. :)


	6. Chapter 6

It was fairly easy to remove the IV, find clean clothes, and dig out one of Gladio’s baseball caps from the Shield’s bags. 

The hat was the worst part of trying to leave because it smelled so strongly of Gladio and that alone made Prompto squirm. His mind screamed to return to the comfort of the bed and the alpha, but continued to fight the feeling anyway. He had plenty of experiences resisting the allures of smells before. 

The omega stuffed his blond hair under the cap, crept from the room, and did his best to remember how to smell like nothing. It had been over ten years but such skills weren’t easily forgotten; such skills had kept him alive in the first place. 

The hallway was empty, as well as the staircase. Leaving in the middle of a storm at night had its advantages. He hadn’t planned on it being dark and raining but was thankful for the added distraction. Prompto hadn’t really cared what time of day or what the weather was outside. He was just relieved to finally have the strength and alertness to shuck the effects of sedation to Gladio. 

He pulled the cap lower over his eyes and focused when he opened the back door outside. Three Glaives in heavy raincoats leaned against the building, under a balcony, talking to themselves. 

No smell. No emotions. Nothing. Just a shadow moving in the middle of the night. He held his breath and skittered forward, hoping all of them were not latent betas. 

The Glaives didn’t give him a second look. 

He darted down alleyways ignoring the strain in his muscles, drawing as much energy as he could from Gladio without straining the bond too much. He didn’t want the Shield waking up if at all possible. He just had to keep the alpha asleep; keep moving the effect of the sedative to Gladio as long as he could. Then, when the drugs wore off completely, try to use the bond to continue the sleep. He figured he could hide from the Glaives but once Gladio was conscious it would be over. 

Prompto had taken out plenty of alphas during assessments. Forcing the raging humans into numb, rolled up bodies meant being allowed pain killers and, sometimes, if he did extra well, clean sheets. With a forming bond in place it was even easier to keep an alpha in check, as much as he didn’t look forward to withdrawal sweating, nausea, headaches, and the occasional memory loss. As long as he got away before he had to deal with any of that. 

He should have left the IV in he argued with himself. The sedative was separate from the flow of a saline drip and he could feel the stress of dehydration and an already worn out body. He should have snooped around for some pain killers but too late now. He wasn’t about to transfer the pain to Gladio either. He’d have steal supplies until he found some place to stay. He was capable of lock picking too. He didn’t want to do it, but he could. Or maybe he wouldn’t stay anywhere at all. Not for any long period of time anyway. It was unlikely the Glaive would ever stop searching for him completely and he wasn’t going back to Niflheim. 

He said that over and over. He wasn’t going back. He wasn’t going back. Nor was he about to be Gladio’s sex toy and private energy reservoir (even if he was currently using Gladio as his). He didn’t care what Lucis society said about omegas, alphas, and betas. Lucis might strive for equality on the outside but there were no taming ancient instincts and ideas. He didn’t care how much he had loved his friends either. Regret boiled inside him for taking advantage of Gladio but he wasn’t going back. He wasn’t going back. 

He smelled the hotel full of distrusting Glaives. There was suspicion, tension, and worry everywhere. They knew enough already and he wasn’t about to stick around to be a strain on Noctis. Nobody needed the stain of a Niflheim refugee on their pack. They’d never let him go back on suppressants either and if they knew what he could do….they’d strap him back to a cold, steel table. Not to mention he could be used as some bargaining offer now. Niflheim would pay dearly to get back one of their war machines and might even trade Luna. 

But he wasn’t going back. He wasn’t going back. He shivered and choked on tears because he should let them use him as leverage. His life for Noct’s ability to become the next king should be a good enough reason to stay and let them use him. Noct, Ignis, and Gladio were nothing but the most wonderful people ever. 

He felt terrible and ugly and worthless keeping his own life rather than being used for a greater good. He really did want to help the Lucis prince succeed. He wanted Niflheim to suffer and he was ready to die for that cause. 

But be somebody’s slave? Never. Possibly go back to being a lab rat? Absolutely never ever. 

No, he wasn’t going back. He clenched his fists and kept moving. 

He made it past city limits and around the carter by daybreak, going north towards Vesperpool. His worry turned to daemons. It had been easier to escapee Niflheim when one still had daemon blood coursing in their veins and the beasts paid no head. But now he’d be more human and they’d attack. Eventually he’d have to find a way to survive at night, and that including the notion of getting the blood back into his system. The thought of his veins burning again- 

That memory made him stop, keel over, and vomit. His still felt those long, thin metal needles underneath his skin sometimes. He remembered the smell of rotten eggs. The clang of tools. The screams of the other children and the way the dead ones were flung into the furnace. 

He got back to his feet. He wasn’t going back. 

He ran hard and fast as lightning streaked across the sky. 

\--------

By noon he stopped to rest. He had avoided the searching Glaive thus far and figured he had enough space between them to catch his breath. The rain ceased to stop but at least the wind and thunder had taken a break.

Prompto wedged himself between two boulders and collapsed into a mess of mud and water. The mountainous region made for great cover but provided extra exertion to get around in. If he was having problems maneuvering the terrain then the Glaive would too. 

He rubbed at his right side where he took the initial attack from falling on the larva nest and peeled off the filthy bandages. The welts and boils were less prominent but enough pressure still caused bloody pus to ooze out. All the medication they had given him to control inflammation, swelling, and muscle convulsion was fading fast. He could push the discomfort to the Gladio but Prompto wasn’t about to use the alpha for a pain sponge too. After the bond withdrawal wore off the man needed to be healthy and ready to continue being the Shield. 

Withdrawal that caused Prompto to dry heave at his feet as his body demanded another bite. His fingers itched at the bump on his neck, already bloated with fluid and radiating distress. He was surprised he wasn’t worse off but assumed the doctors had lanced the gland and given him saliva while he was out. 

He couldn’t decide what was worse; being bound and able to use Gladio or being unbound and unable to draw energy while he fled. 

He didn’t blame the others for forcing a bond. They hadn’t much choice. It wasn’t like he could gain control over himself while the poison wreaked havoc. They hadn’t any strong sedatives with them either and he was already trying to claw his skin off. Because, at the time, in the frenzy and pain, the best idea he had was to rip off his skin and remove his scent glands. 

He even tried to rip off Gladio’s skin to make the alpha’s smell go away as the man wrestled him to the ground. He wondered if Gladio regretted giving him close combat lesson when he was able to dodge and toss off the bulky man several times. During the whole fight he had his wrist broken by the big guy trying to keep a hold of him.

He looked over the non-tattooed wrist. It ached but it was clear a magic potion had been used. He felt gross knowing Noct had spared a potion that should have gone to Gladio on him. The magical potions, the ones that the Glaive didn’t mix together with magic from the crystal and medications, came from Noct or King Regis themselves. Noct made a habit of making potions out of sodas and sport drinks just to spite the world. When Regis focused his energy to infuse a liquid with healing properties it was specially crafted vials of filtered water. Regis could churn out crates of such precious supplies but Noct could only manage a few before he needed to rest. 

Prompto scrubbed at specks of dirt on the wrist and thought they shouldn’t have wasted any potions or medications on him. It would have been better if Gladio drove a dagger into his chest and just got the whole thing over with. 

Death meant he wouldn’t have to go back and it meant not being used for the rest of his life. At least he could have died surrounded by friends. There were plenty of others back in the labs that tried to take their own lives. He was always jealous of the ones that succeeded but never had the will to go through with it. Now he did. He’d could jump off a cliff or just wait for night. It would be easier, of course, to shoot himself, but that meant summoning a gun and he refused to use any of Noct’s magic for such a thing (assuming Noct hadn’t already cut him off). 

He pushed the idea away. Dying would mean dragging Gladio down with him. He was ultimately expandable but Gladio was absolutely not. 

He rubbed at his other wrist. Too bad they ended up taking off his bracelets, but his secret wouldn’t have lasted long anyway, even if managed to get away with just being a suppressed omega. Gladio would’ve figured it out quickly and Prompto did not want to deal with the wrath the Shield would spew out after he learned he was bonded to some ‘thing’. 

All that work to stay normal and happy and in control destroyed by larva. All his careful precautions to avoid anything that interacted with his suppressants were shattered instantly. He had prepared himself to deal with any interactions by occasionally going off the meds and suppressing himself. He practiced the skills he used to escapee Niflheim whenever he could. He had been ready for the drugs to fail – just not for the drugs to fail so spectacularly and while in immense agony. 

It wasn’t like he wanted to be an omega anyway. In fact, he didn’t want to be anything. He had wished Lucis, for all its science and progress, would have been studying ways to revert back to being latent betas. No strong waves of smells. No strong rushes of emotions that overpowered everything. Nobody but himself controlling him. He wanted to be somebody that was nothing like that kid who ran away so long ago. 

He had read Glaive reports about “mysterious underground laboratories hidden from the general public”. He wished he could have told them as much information as they wanted but it wasn’t worth the risk. Besides, he didn’t want his mother getting in-  
His mother!

Prompto groaned and leaned his head back against the rock. She’d be the first person that’d be taken hostage and questioned. Which meant they’d find out she too was an escapee saved by his father. Not from the labs, but just a regular omega citizen desperate to get out. With Lucis so picky and careful about taking in anybody from Niflheim the woman had to become an expert in illegal documentation. She had hidden herself and Prompto so well. Now all her hard work would be destroyed too. 

She probably wouldn’t be punished severely or deported. Not now anyway. There’d be fines for all her illegal documentation. He could maybe find a way to get her money if he tried. 

There was no way she wouldn’t be telling them all about the day the solider in their army sneaked her into the country. Then she could tell them about the day that same solider sneaked him in. 

Ragged, dying little Prompto pleading to be given suppressants and pain killers. He was so desperate to be numb to the world. He would act normal he promised. He’d be a good kid he promised; and he was, for the most part. Albeit shy and filled with anxiety because, as it turned out, living in society was rough having no socials skills or trust of others. 

Kids were kids in Lucis. They laughed and played. They had plush animals and clean bedsheets. They had school and books and…and everything. At first, Prompto had even been scared of the electronic dogs that yapped and flipped in toy store displays; he thought it was a real puppy that had been turned into Magitek. 

He let himself slump further against the boulder and take slow, deep breaths. As much as sapping Gladio’s strength had gotten him this far the bond was deteriorating fast. Lack of saliva and proximity to the alpha made him dizzy, cold, and sensitive to every single smell. Or maybe that was still the poison. Or just his lack of recovery in general. Or all three.

He could pop the scent gland just fine alone but that wouldn’t relieve anything besides the pounding pressure and inability to look around. 

Prompto tried to take more deep breaths. He tried to relax. More sharp thoughts and memories kept him from attempting to plot out a clear plan of action. He could feel Gladio trying to break free now, the Shield lost in a haze of lucid dreams. 

A growl caught his attention and he compelled himself back to his feet and onward. He wasn’t ready to fight daemons, let alone local wildlife. Glaives could be dodged and even commanded to turn the other way (assuming they weren’t latent betas). Hungry animals were out of his control and the last thing he needed was a pack of coeurl stalking him. 

At least the rain felt cool and relieving.


	7. Chapter 7

Noct stared at his cell phone like it was broccoli. Except maybe the broccoli was poisoned and possessed and would cause the world to stop existing.

His excuse to leave so hastily had been a phone call to his father.

In hindsight it was a poor evasion because out of all the things he could be doing he absolutely, most certainly did not want to talk to the king.

At least his and Ignis’s hotel room was quieter. He could sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the device without anybody noticing.

“Oh, hey, hi, dad,” Noctis could hear himself saying. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m feeling okay. Yeah…well, okay, that is…see, dad….that is, I need tell you – do you remember Prompto?”

Noctis tossed his phone to the floor, flopped backward on the bed, and stared up at the slowly rotating fan. Even with the relief of constant rain the humidity of Lestallum refused to break. His stomach turned uneasily for the millionth time since being shaken awake in the earliest hours of the morning.

The Glaive had already been in contact with the citadel. The news of Prompto’s disappearance bolted through the Glaive like lightning. King Regis was well aware of the situation. Noctis’s figured his call would be like a bratty child trying to defend a broken vase.

The chances of Prompto not being a Niflheim spy was as thin fishing line. He couldn’t come up with any logical reasons to tell his father why the Glaive shouldn’t treat his friend like an extremely dangerous fugitive.

“He’s a good person, I know it” wasn’t going to get Noct anywhere. Not anymore. Maybe it had kept Prompto safe when the blond was actually present. There was no contending the omega’s desertion and Gladio’s inexplicable coma.

A brief knocked on the door caused him to sit up and he argued with himself if should answer it. A key and lock answered for him and Ignis slipped inside.

Noctis looked hopefully at the advisor.

Ignis shook his head. “I am sorry, Noct. There is no change.”

Noct tumbled back on the bed and stared at the ceiling fan.

“How about I fetch us something to eat?” Ignis questioned.

“Not hungry.” Noctis muttered.

“Water?”

“No.”

“A soda? The cherry flavor?”

“Stomach hurts.”

Ignis sighed and sat down near the prince. The advisor leaned over to look the prince in the eyes. “You cannot hide in here forever.”

“I’m not hiding.”

Ignis frowned. “I suppose you made that phone call? What did King Regis say?”

“He said Prompto is just scared and we should think about what’s best for him.”

Ignis’s frown increased. “I enjoyed his company too, but now isn’t the time to keep pretending this is all going to work out.”

“Maybe it would if the Glaive let me go looking for him.”

Ignis shook his head and drew a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. “Those aren’t Glaive orders. Our kingdom doesn’t need the prince walking into an obvious trap.”

“It’s not a trap!” Noctis snapped and then looked away from Ignis. “I’m not mad at you.”

The advisor shook his head and placed a hand on the prince’s head. “I know.”

Noctis took a breath and closed his eyes. The orders to stay in the hotel were directly from the king. He wanted to call his father to specifically try to get an escort to leave. More Glaive had been sent to Lestallum to track the omega, all of them operating under the notion they were dealing with a Magitek unit that needed to be captured alive no matter what.

Noct had attempted to alter the orders; treat Prompto like they’d treat another Glaive. Nobody liked the idea.

But nobody knew Prompto like Noct did. They didn’t know the terrified mess of skin and bones the omega originally was at the end of third grade. Only two months left and Prompto was introduced to the classroom as a transfer from Duscae.

It happened all the time in more and more frequency: orphans from outside the wall being brought into Insomnia and immediately placed back into school and society. Lucis wanted its children to suffer as little as possible from the war.

After break, at the beginning of fourth grade, Noct had actually been caught off guard when Prompto found him hiding behind the school. Prompto offered to trade one of his battle monsters with one of Noct’s. The chubby, anxious kid had seen the alert on his phone that a near-by trainer was looking for a trade and approached Noct without a clue he was the prince.

Their meeting didn’t end at a phone trade. They began to battle monsters after school. They began to eat lunch together. Prompto never treated Noct like some breakable glass statue like the entire citadel did. Noct could be just another kid playing battle monsters with the omega. They’d goof off in math class and hang out in gym class.

In secondary school they started hanging out outside of school and Prompto finally learned his only friend was the prince. The blond treated Noct differently for only a few days before the shock faded. Then Prompto went out of his way to eat differently, work hard in gym class, go on daily jogs, and constantly pester Noctis about requirements to be in the Glaive or Crownsguard.

Noct just couldn’t see how that terrified kid at the end of third grade was some secret spy meant to do him harm. When Prompto learned Noctis was the prince the boy only wanted to make sure he could help the kingdom in any way possible. For Astral’s sake, Prompto had endured countless hours of training with Gladio – who was not nice on his friend when the gunner first started training. In fact, Gladio had been worried about the unhealthy, couch-potato kid doing anything other than providing Noctis with some laughs until graduation.

By graduation though, Gladio’s opinion shifted to admiration and affection. Noct wasn’t fond of training in general, but Prompto always smiled and carried on. No matter the number of times the Shield bested him, the blond got right back up and tried again. Gladio had joked several times the blond could probably act as a back-up Shield if Noct ever needed it. Gladio would take a mortal wound for the prince, but Prompto would take the wound with a smile.

“Are you sure I cannot bring you something to eat?” Ignis interrupted his thoughts. “It’s been almost a day now since you had anything.”  
Noctis sighed. “No vegetables.”

Ignis chuckled and sat up. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

There was another knock at the door. This one firm and loud.

“It’s me,” Crowe’s voice informed them.

Ignis hurried over, opened the door, and let the woman in. She closed the door behind her and scurried into the room. Unlike most of the Glaive, she didn’t reek of wariness or uncertainty. She made it clear her belief fell in line with the prince’s.

“Look,” she whispered, “They have Prompto’s mother at the citadel. I wanted to let you know.”

Noctis sat up straight quickly. “Did she say anything?”

“We don’t have any official reports, but I hear Cor is back on his way to Lestallum. All I know is she’s a nurse or something. She works at a hospital in north Insomnia. It was on Prompto’s Crownsguard paperwork. I assume you two knew that, right?”

“We were aware she worked in the medical industry.” Ignis replied. “She worked long hours as Prompto was often home unsupervised.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Crowe nodded her head. “They couldn’t find her at home, I think. Nyx was the one that overheard it. But look, they’re talking about taking Gladio back to Insomnia. These new units just arrived. A whole bunch of latent betas too. Anyway, they brought a bunch of med stuff with them. They’re going to induce a real coma, I think. Life support and everything.”

“What? Why?” Noctis barked.

“Will that not just leave Prompto unconscious somewhere? Is that wise?” Ignis refrained from raising his voice.

“I don’t know what they’re thinking but they sent me to get you. Well, I volunteered. I thought I’d warn you.”

Ignis was immediately pushing at Noct’s mind; stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. I’m here. Stay calm.

Noctis clenched his hands into first, tugging at the sheets. How dare they! They wanted Prompto to die. They intended to keep Gladio alive through it. How quickly his best friend had slipped from ‘capture alive’ to ‘fuck-it-all we need to stop the omega from doing any more damage’.

“It hasn’t even been a day,” Noctis spat out. “Why such a rush?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry. I’m not, ya know, really privy to that information.” Crowe said. Being on the prince’s side didn’t mean she wasn’t worried. Her eyes were more than filled with concern even if the omega smelled like trust and magic. She had been an orphan too. She wasn’t exactly accepted whole-heartedly in the Glaive either. Her skills and abilities hadn’t come from some prestigious long line of reputable Insomnia aristocrats. If Prompto could be considered an enemy so easily would she be next?

Noctis took a deep breath and stormed from the room. Ignis followed, poking at the prince’s mind to stay in control. Crowe followed behind them but was blocked from entering Gladio’s room.

“You asked for me?” Noctis immediately spoke up upon entering.

The room that had once been so peaceful was now packed with Glaive and Glaive doctors. It no longer smelled of clean laundry and disinfectant but metal, mud, sweat, and dominance.

A doctor stepped forward, smelling of autumn and camphor; an alpha. Behind him two high ranking Glaives also came forward.

“We ask that you pack your belongings up, your highness.”

“Why?” Noctis crossed his arms.

“We’re escorting you, your advisor, and your Shield back to Insomnia as soon as possible.” One the Glavies behind the doctor spoke. She smelled like sour candy and lemon floor cleaner. Another alpha.

“Why?” Noctis pressed.

The other high ranking Glaive came forward. He smelled like stacks of printer paper and lemon floor cleaner. A beta. Probably bound to the alpha he was next to. “We think it’s best to return you to the safest environment until further notice. We have been unable to locate the Magitek spy or any information of his whereabouts. We are uncertain of his abilities and we are concerned he might be tricking the packs we have sent after him. Latent beta troops have now been deployed.”

“Why would that mean we’d have to leave?” Noctis’s momentarily raised his voice before Ignis was prodding at his mind to tread carefully. “You would be separating Gladio from Prompto even further. Won’t that make it harder to keep up the bond?”

Uneasy glances darted about the room. Glavies shifted uncomfortable on their feet, the smell of apprehension wafting over everyone.

“The bond is to be nulled.” The doctor crossed his arms.

“Why? It was already approved.”

“We are talking to King Regis abou-”

“Gladio is my Shield,” Noctis cut the sour candy smelling alpha off. “My father might get to approve it but I can make the final call.”

“A day ago you abdicated that decision to the king when you declined all interviews about your so-called friend,” the doctor sneered in return. “The adults are taking care of the situation, your highness. Maybe it best you go back to your phone games.”

Noctis took a step forward but Ignis quickly gripped his shoulder and pulled him back. This wasn’t just about Prompto anymore. The prince was well aware the dislike the Glaive had about the young royal. There were plenty of rumors that Noct would let his father perish before the crown was handed over because he’d never be able to handle the power the crystal. Noctis would be the one to let Insomnia fall because he was too weak, too immature, and too focused on himself.

“Speaking to your future king like that is highly inappropriate,” Ignis growled.

The alpha didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Everybody could smell what he wanted to say: Future kings don’t let Magitek troopers into their packs. Future kings don’t order their Shields to bind to out of control omegas. Future kings take responsibility of all their pack members. A future king should have an omega to leech his energy from.

“I apologize for my colleague’s words. We are trying to do the best for our kingdom.” The beta said.

“Breaking the bond could cause Gladio a lot of unnecessary trouble though.” Ignis’s voice remained composed.

“We are prepared to deal with such an event,” the doctor stated matter-of-factly. “We have discussed our timeframe and we expect the Shield to be fully recovered and ready to continue the prince’s trials within three weeks.”

“What if Gladio doesn’t want to be unbound?” Noctis asked. He regretted the question when distrustful eyes scowled at him. To them, Gladio was in danger because of a runaway Magitek omega. They didn’t see a Shield who frequently went running with the blond in the morning. They didn’t see a Shield who patrolled the citadel with a talented gunner, laughing and talking and playing King’s Knight. They didn’t see Noctis’s friends and family and pack.

The beta Glaive took a deep breath. “Unfortunately, your highness, your Shield’s opinions are not part of this equation. We’re here to save his life not respect his wishes.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to save his life if you brought back Prompto safely?” Noctis brushed Ignis’s hand from his shoulder.

“Yes, of course,” the beta replied swiftly. “But that is becoming more and more improbable.”

“It’s been less than twenty four hours,” Noctis argued.

“A day is a long tim-” the beta began.

“You’re worried about this omega creature,” the alpha Doctor interrupted, “while your Shield could die at any moment.”

“Prompto won’t hurt him,” Noctis snapped back.

The doctor motioned to the bed behind him. “Not hurt him? Your Shield is being kept in dormant state. His heart rate is slow. His temperature is dropping. Your Prompto is using -”

“He’s sick! He can’t help it! Isn’t that what omegas are supposed to do?” Noctis huffed.

The sour candy alpha stepped next to the doctor, glared at him, and put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Don’t answer that.”

The doctor pushed the hand away. “Everybody here knows their place.”

“Do they?” Noctis knit his brow and took one step forward. “I think there are people here who are confused about who is going to be king.”

The words had come out of his mouth before he had time to think about them. There was a brief moment of shame that passed over him before Ignis helped him latch onto the feeling of command and authority.

“Nobody is arguing your throne, your highness.” The sour candy alpha scoffed.

Somewhere close by a bolt of lightning hit a nearby building; the occupants of the room, save Gladio in bed, jumped simultaneously. The rain slammed hard against the roof.

“We aren’t leaving Lestallum until Prompto is found and brought back here.” Noctis instructed.

“We highly advise against this.” the beta said.

“I don’t care. And whatever you’re thinking of doing to “help” Gladio you can stop that too. You keep him comfortable as best you can and that’s it. The bond stays.”

“It will eventually null itself, your highness. We have no more scent fluid from the omega.” the alpha doctor replied.

“Well then we better find Prompto as soon as possible.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Hi. Thanks for continuing to read this.

Gladio tried to wake up several times but his limbs were too heavy and his muscles had returned to feeling like they’d revolted against him. The times he did get his eyes open he saw Ignis and Noctis hovering close. He could at least feel their hands holding his hands.

It grew harder and harder to breathe. A chill washed over him and a blur of doctors appeared and disappeared. He thought for sure Prompto had taken a turn for the worse. He was going to die. He was going to be murdered by his own brain thinking its body was dying.

He swam in and out of hazy alertness, assuming he’d eventually just drift away into complete nothing.

He was surprised when he did wake up. The world stunk of rotten eggs and iron so much he had to reach up a hand to try and cover his nose. The scent was overwhelming and his stomach churned wildly; both from the smell and hunger.  
He opened his eyes expecting to find a hotel ceiling fan. Harsh, white neon lights and metal ceilings greeted him.

He jerked upward and found himself looking at more metal walls. In the distance was a terrible screech of gears grinding against each other and the walls vibrated, generating a sound like sick thunder.

The room around him was small, if it could even be called a room. A jail cell seemed more appropriate. Or maybe cage was the best word. There was just a cot and dirty, foul smelling sheets. One of the walls was made of thick bars and when he got out of bed and walked over he could make out a long, metal hallway with cages stacked on top of each other. In front of him were cages and next to him were cages, all filled with children lying numb and wide eyed on their cots.

His stomach made a strained gurgle and his muscles ached in protest of the movement. He had to squat down and try to catch his breath, leaning against the cold bars.

It was then he noticed his arms. Freckled, pale arms marred with broad bruising and cuts. He looked at his hands; small and wrapped with gauze. He was dressed in some grungy medical gown and when he pulled a clump of hair before his eyes he found bleached blond strands.

Shit.

Shit. He stood up and moved backward staring at his hands.

Shit. He was Prompto. This wasn’t his body. He was dreaming. He was stuck in some memory. He hadn’t woken up. His heart raced in his chest. Was this what dying with a bond meant? Was his life not going to flash before his eyes? Before his last breath he was going to relive the omega’s life. Fuck he should have read about this.

“Oh gods, it hurts,” he squeaked out and found his voice childish and hoarse. Prompto had been screaming and the sudden strain on his voice muscles caused great pain to flare in his neck. He immediately withdrew his hands when he went to rub at his neck muscles, finding the neck was bruised as well and any touch just hurt worse.

Tears welled in his eyes. Between the overwhelming smells and damaged body, Prompto couldn’t stop himself from dropping to the floor. He rolled up into the fetal position as wave after wave of nausea hammered him.

Gladio had never felt anything like this. He couldn’t think of anything that smelled so foul, not even the times he fought daemons with the Glaive. Nothing could be this powerful and merciless in keeping him pinned to the frozen metal floor tiles.

There had been plenty of injuries in training and being a Shield too. Broken bones, torn ligaments, broken ribs, cuts, bruises, various poisons and ailments; it was all part of the job. Gladio never shied away from pain.

Except now. If he ever woke up he promised he would never complain about anything again.

The side of the cage with bars opened with a shrill screech. Rough, gloved hands grabbed him and when he attempted to fight back another smell overpowered his will to move. He let himself be carried, listening to boots echo against the metal and watching the neon lights flicker overhead. Children were sobbing. Somebody was banging at wall. A glass shattered somewhere.

Gladio begged himself to either wake up or pass out. Whatever was happening made his heart pound even faster and fear drowned the child’s senses. Flight or fight had turned into stunned agony. He was a passenger in a body that wasn’t his; in a memory that wasn’t his.

Prompto was dropped on a metal table. Arms and legs strapped down. Above him bright lights glared angrily down at him and blurred his vision.

“Please,” Prompto was wailing and Gladio could do nothing. “Please don’t, please.”

The smell of rotten eggs grew worse and somebody held his head in place so that he couldn’t look around. A masked face looked down at him.

Gladio braced himself. First were needles jammed into both sides of his neck, right in the scent glands. The world exploded into white radiating from the lights above and Prompto closed his eyes attempting to block it all out. Another set of needles jabbed into the scent glands in his thighs.

The world titled sideways and it felt like falling off the table into infinity. Prompto screamed for help despite an already raw voice.

Gladio didn’t expect the next round of needles. These were large and cold and pushed right into the child’s leg muscles. Then more large and cold needles drove into his arm muscles. An excruciating blaze erupted in every muscle and it felt like every vein was on fire. Gladio had never been so aware of a body. He felt everything.

Then he was keenly aware of those around him. Three betas and one alpha. One small smell and he was going through their lives like flipping through a book.

Two of the betas were friends. They were terrified. This was where the government had placed them. They wanted to study the scourge and help. They didn’t plan to do harm to children. They didn’t want to do any harm but were too scared to disobey. There was no leaving Niflheim and they didn’t want to be bound. They smelled like stormy weather and apple cider.

The third beta was here because she failed placement in other jobs. She never worked out with any of the packs they placed her with. She needed the money. She had a child and was promised her daughter wouldn’t be placed in the research programs as long as she did her job. She only wanted to keep her child safe. Oh gods, she didn’t want her baby to suffer for the greater good. None of the propaganda about giving your child away to the empire mentioned the labs. She smelled like stale water and bubblegum.

Prompto felt overwhelming compelled to help them. Instinct was forcing him provide reassuring feelings and smells. And gods it hurt to project serenity when everything inside was on fire.

Gladio realized then that Prompto was doing the job of an adult omega. The child was feeling and smelling the world before puberty even hit. Niflheim was forcing glands to develop well before the body was ready for such things.

“He’s ready,” one of the betas spoke.

The alpha was a blank. Only the smell of authority and the feeling of being crushed by a massive wall came from the being. And that massive wall trampled and smothered Prompto in obedience and ill intent. He wasn’t to help them. He was to command them to not feel anything; to continue their job without question.

Fuck Niflheim. Gladio willed and willed the memory to stop.

“Okay, we felt it. Just take him back.” One of the betas stuttered out, a pleading tone wavering in their voice.

The needles were all removed but Prompto didn’t open his eyes again till he was back in the cot. The child lay paralyzed, staring up at the ceiling.

Gladio stewed in anger until he was blessed with unconsciousness. If he survived Prompto’s death he would invade Gralea himself.

\---------

He woke up again the same cage. The door was opened and Prompto directed out. The child walked on wobbly legs in an orderly line down the hallway with the other children. The little girl across the hallway from Prompto marched in front of him and he stared at her oily, unkempt brown hair.

The uniform guards that kept them in check were teenagers and all alphas, their faces expressionless and movements unnatural. At the end of the hallway were two other teens. These were omegas with faces flushed with fever. The omegas’ eyes were plastered to the alphas and whatever scent and emotion they gave off were focused solely on the teenage alphas.

An older man dressed in a very neatly pressed uniform leaned against the wall near the omegas. “Good, good. Keep them inhibited. Nicely done. Nicely done.”

One of the omegas faltered for a moment and four of the alphas stopped abruptly and began to pound at the metal walls in a sudden outburst of mad anger and rage.

The older man slapped hard at the omega’s cheek. The omega gave out a quiet whimper but returned his focused to the alphas who swiftly returned to their machine-like walk.

Prompto trembled and tugged nervously at his gown.

Fuck Niflheim.

Prompto and his peers were herded into an amphitheater. Above them, in the bleachers, were technicians and researches and doctors all with clipboards and pens ready.

The children watched each take their turn being tossed into the ring. A drugged, older alpha in a wild frenzy was let loose next. The children, no older than seven Gladio guessed, were expected to bring the adult or teenage alpha to their knees in submission.  
The girl who had walked in front of Prompto held his hand. When she was dragged away from the other children they had to wrench their hands apart. She sobbed when they tossed her to the hard metal ground.

She didn’t even try. She just wailed as the alpha held her down and bit her neck. There was blood and Prompto looked away after the alpha torn her gown off. When he looked back a technician was checking for a pulse.

“Alive. Stitch the neck and thigh. Take her to the alpha’s cell. Let ‘um have a treat for the rest of the day.”

Another technican carried her body away.

Prompto cried during his assessment but Gladio could feel the omega begging to not be like the girl across the hallway. At the same time the blond could smell and feel everybody else around him; the other children’s terror and the doctors’ analytic aloofness. It all spurred Prompto to emit massive amounts of oppression and anguish. The alpha crumpled to the ground in distress, pleading to not be hurt.

When the trials were over the remaining children were escorted back. A technician came into Prompto’s cell and changed his cot sheets and gave him the most comfortable looking pillow. The man congratulated the little omega on his success and even tucked the child in; administering a shot that Prompto was ecstatic to receive.

It had been some sort of suppressant laced with pain killers. The dull fire in Prompto’s veins vanished along with any lingering discomfort. All the overwhelming smells and emotions faded and Gladio understood with great detail while the blond had been on suppressants.

In fact, Gladio couldn’t ever fathom being an omega let alone one in Niflheim. The alpha in him was outraged and appalled. Sure, omegas could be fidgety, over-sentimental messes sometimes, but how dare they fucking pollute the primeval empathy of an omega.

Had he any capacity to comfort Prompto in the memory he would’ve. He would’ve blocked out the world to ease the child’s suffering.

\-------

By the third lucid dream Gladio was struggling for his own consciousness. There were times he felt the hotel bed under him and a cool rag on his forehead before he was flung back into another body.

He got flashes of awareness where Prompto was fleeing through the mountainous land north of Lestallum. He was well aware of the fear flooding through the omega’s senses and the way the blond was forcing him to remain inactive.

Gladio made attempts to push back at Prompto but withdrew when he felt the omega’s sheer desperation to escape. He wondered if the blond even knew he was mucking about in his memories when Prompto forced him back into dreams.

The next coherent nightmare found Prompto running. The child’s feet bled as he ran over cold, rocky terrain. The barren trees passed in a blur and the others next to him stumbled and struggled for breath.

Behind him smelled and felt like food, comfort, and warm blankets. He knew it was a lie. Some of the other children had already turned back; lured into thinking the labs would be different this time.

Those that kept going didn’t stop even when night approached. That’s when Prompto saw daemons for the first time. It was an accident the children learned they were safe.

One of the alphas fell out of the trees they were hidden in. The daemons paid him no attention and the children realized they could move freely at night. It made stealing food, clothes, and supplies much easier.

Seven of them survived for weeks tracking from run-down town to run-down town. They stole weapons and taught themselves to fight. Of course they were cautious of each other but the children had a general truce. They only had each other to survive. Nobody else was going to help them and none of them wanted to go back to the labs.

Prompto learned how to use a gun. He took down a mother voretooth and the children ate for days off the meat of the mom and pups. They found the coast eventually and a port town. They learned about Lucis and the war and the world.

It was on the outskirts of the port that, during the night, the children discovered they were no longer immune to the daemons. Three of the seven were killed. The children never went out at night again and understood that something had changed in their bodies; something the adults did to them wore off and they traded more comfortable bodies with not being allowed freedom past sunset.

They lasted another couple of weeks. They were experts at lock picking and stealth. They had picked up basic reading skills and had a decent mastery of their abilities. Prompto could keep himself from being detected. He and the other omega learned how to keep the alphas, betas, and omegas from noticing them at all. They even made a baker mindlessly hand them a tray of cheese bread.

One of the alphas talked about a home. She had a family before they traded her for food. Prompto only knew the labs and hung on her stories of parents, toys, and candy like a magnet.

Their independence ended during a town raid; the empire had been looking for children its citizens were trying to keep undocumented. The four runaways had been sleeping in an empty warehouse when the soldiers burst in. The omega girl was killed when she convinced one alpha to murder another. The other two were captured.

Prompto managed to hide long enough to steal away on a cargo boat. He ended up in Tenebrae where he stole a postcard with a picture of Insomnia on it. He spent hours staring at the picture dreaming of parents, toys, and candy. He managed to hide away on a boat to Accordo.

From there he attempted several times to sneak aboard a ship to Insomnia but never succeeded. He had a brief stint in an Atlissia orphanage but ran away after the headmistress fainted from seeing his tattoo. He covered it up after that.

He spent days hungry, shelter less, dodging the adults that were looking for him, and exhausted having to absorb the smells and emotions of strangers. Then technicians from the labs showed up and began to wander the streets with the police. There was a reward for finding a boy with a mark on his wrist.

That’s when a solider from Lucis found him in a back alley one night. The man offered him a stick of jerky and a soda. Prompto took it but ran. The solider came back the following night with a warm meal and another soda for him. This time Prompto stuck around to eat it and let the beta soldier’s scent alleviate his frayed senses. Then the next time he returned with food and clean clothes. Then the next night he snuck Prompto onto a boat to Galdin Quay.

Another week passed where Prompto hid in the resort town until the man showed up again. The solider took him to Insomnia where a mother, home, and suppressants waited for him.

It was a shame Gladio didn’t know sooner how much the man meant to the omega. The solider had been killed in a battle when the blond was fourteen. Prompto had disappeared from training and school for two weeks following the death. Gladio wished he could’ve been there for Prompto; the blond had been mourning not only a parent but a savior.

Gladio shifted from hotel bed to Prompto’s Insomnia life to Prompto’s manic fear at being taken back to the labs.

He experienced eating all the unhealthy food Prompto ate. Food never meant so much to Gladio before, but now he knew what an empty belly really felt like. The world had been crumbling around the child and comfort came in cheeseburgers and chocolate bars. He had been so angry at Noct for being friends with a fat kid. He had no idea how depression and social anxiety was momentarily fended off a by piece of cake.

Not to mention all the times he complained to Ignis about being hungry and Prompto only agreed cheerfully that he was starving too. Gods he would have slapped himself.

He watched himself train the omega. He hadn’t been that mean? Had he? Prompto just smiled through it all though. The kid was so happy to have the chance to help put an end to Niflheim. The blond had friends now. If Prompto smiled he could make Noctis happy without forcing an emotion on the prince. He didn’t have to feel and smell the world pounding down all already him.

He watched Prompto do well in art. The boy loved cameras and photos. He didn’t know Prompto could also draw and kept a journal of sketches. Gladio was the subject of many of the illustrations.

And then, oh gods, Gladio was also in Prompto’s thoughts when the young teenager figured out masturbation in the shower. Cindy eventually came up in his thoughts too, as well as several other Glaives. And that really nice latent beta from the photography store.

Prompto kept the thought of mating out of his mind because it reminded him of the brown hair girl who failed her assessment. He thought about having heats and knots. He attempted to watch porn meant for non-latent betas once but ended up hiding in his closet. Alphas only knotted omegas as their rewards; and they only knotted the omegas whose minds had been broken and bodies too weak to be any more use. He cried to himself wishing his friends were all latent betas, especially Gladio.

Gladio attempted to wake himself up again. He was getting too lost in a life that wasn’t his. He was sure he needed to do something important. He was something important? Everything bled together like two paintings melting into each other. Gods, he just wanted to sleep.

Something pulled at his shoulder.

No wait, something was biting his shoulder?

The world twisted into itself and Gladio tried and tried to reach a hand over to touch his shoulder. Then, all at once, he felt like that little boy on the lab table falling into infinity. He screamed for help and seconds later he landed on a hotel bed.

The Shield hurtled himself into a sitting position, surprised he had control again. He reached for his shoulder and ended up throwing up instead.

Ignis held a waste bin under Gladio’s mouth and rubbed soothing circles on his back.

Bodies moved about the room in a mad panic. An IV in his arm drained something cool into his veins and eased the terrible retching. He eagerly drank the small, plastic cup of water that somebody put in his face. He coughed and shivered and eventually had his senses returned to him.

Noctis was sitting on his right side. Ignis was on his left. Glaive and Glaive doctors circled around the bed all looking at him like he had just walked out of the mortuary.

“Gladio?” Noctis asked. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got shat out of a behemoth.”

“Elegant,” Ignis sighed.

“Why aren’t you out looking for Sunshine?” Gladio asked his pack members.

A large, angry scowl plastered itself on Noct’s face. “Oh, you mean the super, secret spy weapon that’s apparently out to kill me and returning to Niflheim with years of intel? Yeah, well, we’re under orders to stay here while the Glaive hunt him down.”

“Iggy,” Gladio turned to advisor, teeth gritted and anger seething off of him. “Can you help me get dressed? We need to leave.”


	9. Chapter 9

It was amazing how quickly the Glaive moved into action with the Shield glaring at them from behind Noctis. Ignis would be impressed if hadn’t spent half the day trying to keep Noctis from disregarding the king’s orders. 

It was part rationality and part greed that kept the advisor from willingly going along with the future king in the first place. Of course he wanted the best for Prompto and had severe doubts the blond was a double agent. Yet doubt couldn’t overtake prudence and, more importantly, he wanted the best for Noctis above all others. Sending the future king after his friend in the middle of bad weather without a Shield during his Royal Arm trials was not a good idea. 

Ignis still argued with himself, atop a Glaive issued chocobo racing north in the midst of a heavy rain, that, even with the Shield, hunting after the omega was a bad idea. Noctis didn’t need such distractions. They had half a year to complete the arm trials or they’d have to start over again. Ignis absolutely, most certainly, unconditionally did not want to watch Noct being stabbed near to death by the ethereal spirits of his ancestors more than once. Each and every time he prayed to the Astrals to give the prince enough strength to survive it. He was certain most of Lucis prayed as well for such an outcome. 

Noctis carried not only the typical pressures of the future king but the added weight as being seen as permanently debilitated. Ignis would admit it was hard to not see the frail, demure child sometimes. Even King Regis seemed to walk on glass around his own son. 

It was hard to become king when everybody treated you like a wilting flower. It was harder still when that wilting flower was expected to become king with enough power to re-extend the wall to the entire kingdom and possibly end the war. 

Ignis blamed himself for being much too indulgent on Noctis. From childhood to adulthood Ignis never stopped being too overprotective. He fought Gladio to skip the prince’s training if Noctis even had the slightest temperature. He cooked special meals for Noct when the prince refused to eat anything else. He let Noct stay home from classes if the prince didn’t have a good night’s rest. 

And Noctis assuredly hadn’t a good night’s rest last night either; not being allowed to fully recover from his stasis. Yet the future king was at the head of the Glaives, pressing onward in the downpour without a second thought. Ignis had hoped Gladio would either pass out or turn back to the hotel within an hour, causing Noctis to give up the search as well. 

Neither of which had happened, but by the second hour the advisor held his breath when the Shield seemed to list from side and side on top the chocobo. 

The chocobo always attempted to make up for the shift in gravity though, thank the Astrals. It was Noct who demanded official Glaive chocobos for the off road trip – especially since it wasn’t a trial. The prince would NOT be caught in the middle of a storm again. 

And storm it did. It’d wane in intensity but the rain never fully stopped. This time they all had heavy rain coats with hoods, an abundance of supplies, and several packs of Glaives for support. 

Ignis wondered if Noct would just use the troops to head toward the royal tomb in the area if everything somehow worked out perfectly…but the advisor had the suspicion Noct hadn’t even bothered to look or care about where the next trials were, and the Glaives (along with most of society) were to never know where the tombs rested. The prince let Gladio and Ignis plan out the journeys to the tombs without any input.

This time Noctis had plenty of input about leaving Lestallum though, despite whatever the Glaives claimed. Gladio swore on his status of royal Shield that Prompto was not a threat. The Shield was given several drugs to fend off withdrawal side effects and backed up Noctis’s wish to look for the omega one hundred percent. 

Somewhere in the hustle of packing Ignis heard Noct mutter out an apology to Gladio. 

“Don’t be,” Gladio had said. “Not to me, anyway. You save that shit for Prompto.”

The Glaive, of course, wanted a detailed report of just why Gladio was so ardent about retrieving the blond. Sure, it was great that they finally had a general location to look for the omega but that didn’t mean the future king and his Shield should go out. Gladio refused to say anything beyond a firm ‘he’s innocent and in trouble’. The Glaive believed Gladio was being mind-controlled. Gladio had several choice swear words in return for them. He told them Prompto could tell them everything they wanted to know if and when he was ready. The Shield put extra emphasis on the ‘if and when’ and told the Glaive to put their inquisitive noses in their own assholes until then. 

Ignis was impressed by that. He didn’t even know Gladio knew the word ‘inquisitive’. All those cheap romance and thriller novels the Shield consumed must be good for something after all. 

Furthermore, Ignis was glad to have his qualms about Prompto’s intentions diminished. He had been so upset and angry at the whole ordeal until Gladio had woken up. Previously he fretted about how to explain Prompto’s situation to the citadel, how he was going to act with a newly bonded pair, how he was going to keep Noctis focused on his trials, how Gladio was going to deal with being attached to an Niflheim omega …now he was more concerned that all of his distress would end up being directed at finding a dead body. 

So with only a quick message to the citadel the remaining Glaive and Prince’s pack left. Word was sent to the other Glaives out in various locations to head north as well. If there was any feedback from Insomnia, Ignis was unaware of it. He assumed either the Glaive were now ignoring orders or were given the okay from Regis to go along with Noctis. 

Ignis estimated the latter to be the most likely; considering the Glaive wouldn’t publically share they might have been wrong and should have obeyed Noctis’s all along without bothering to seek constant evaluation from Regis. Not to mention Ignis wondered if the king was hopeful Noctis finally found some semblance of command. The prince certainly showed no desire to undertake his trials. 

By sundown they reached the northern portion of the Vesperpool and two other Glaive packs had shown up. Twenty one humans including the Prince, his Shield, and his advisor. There was talk about sending Noct and his pack to a haven until dawn but Noct quickly shut down the idea. The discussion fell to splitting up and sending two teams around the shore line in opposite directions. 

Ignis helped to divide the teams but drew his attention away when his phone buzzed. He figured it would be a message from the citadel about forcing Noctis to the haven for the night. He thought perhaps all those around him would get the message, but nobody else seemed to be interrupted by their phone. 

He was surprised to see an email from Cor. The title said: ‘Read Now’. So he opened the message and frowned. 

‘Gladio should read first. Then only share with you and prince if willing.’ 

Ignis scoffed. Of course they sent it to him knowing he’d actually check his email while out on the wild hunt. 

“Gladio,” Ignis held up his phone. “A message for you.”

“Busy.” The Shield growled back, arguing that there should be equal Glaives on each side of the water. 

“A message from the Cor.” Ignis said flatly.

There was a flash of silence amongst them all. Without hesitation, everybody took out their phones to see if they had received messages as well. Gladio marched over to the advisor and snatched the phone away. 

The Glaive returned to their plan of action while Noctis dismissed himself to join Ignis and Gladio. 

A lull passed between the three of them. Noctis started to ask a question but was quiet the moment Ignis glared at him. 

Gladio handed the phone back to Ignis without a word after several tense minutes. 

“Well?” Noctis asked expectedly. 

Gladio just stood there, looking at the ground. 

“Gladdy?” Noct tried again.

“May I read it?” Ignis asked softly.

Gladio took a deep breath and looked up, “Yeah, yeah. I guess. I mean I already know this shit, but, you know, it’s not something everybody should know. Sort of personal crap, okay?”

Ignis nodded and felt Noct’s leaning on his side. The advisor gave him a stern look. 

The prince sighed and glanced at his Shield. “Can I read it too?”

“Yeah, fine.” 

Ignis expected unpleasant truths from the information but unpleasant became an understatement. It was a transcript of the interview with the omega’s mother. 

The parent talked of a child who woke screaming in the middle of the night in absolute terror; a child who pleaded to not have to smell anything or feel the world around him; a child who spoke only in hushed whispers about a place that had a giant furnace that burned bodies – sometimes still living bodies; a child who thought the doctor intended to rape him during a checkup just because the woman felt the scent glands in his neck for inflammation; a child who refused to let anybody comfort him because being comforted meant he had failed.

In the end, Ignis couldn’t decide if he was relieved or heartbroken. 

Both, he decided.

He wondered how Gladio knew all of it already but wasn’t going to press questions. Not right at the moment anyway. Besides, at least Prompto wasn’t running back to Niflheim. The blond was, in all likelihood, operating on the notion Lucis would kill him if they knew the truth. 

“How did you know this stuff?” Noct whispered quietly. Even with the rain quelling most smells, there was no denying the bitter grief rolling off the prince. Ignis sighed. Of course Noct was going to bring it up now. 

“Look, this bond thing is not something I know a whole lot about,” Gladio glanced behind him to make sure nobody else was listening. “But I saw a lot of shit. Dreamed shit, okay? I don’t think Prompto meant for me to be walking around in his memories but it happened, okay? Maybe Sunshine needs those suppressants. Maybe this whole bond thing isn’t good for him.”

“Do you not intend to bite him again?” Ignis asked suspiciously. Excluding the whole evil spy scenario, everybody had been under the assumption they were out to secure a bond for the prince’s pack.  
“No.” Gladio replied firmly.

“Fine, you’re right, I should have done it in the first place,” Noct said, throwing both Ignis and the Shield off guard. The prince was shivering and Ignis attempted to reach out physically and mentally to comfort the future king but was pushed away in both cases.

“What? Did you not hear me?” Gladio raised his voice only briefly and then immediately lowered it to make sure the Glaive wouldn’t come over to investigate. “I’m not saying this because I’m mad at you. I’m not an idiot. Bonding Prompto to you would’ve just given you more responsibility than you needed. And yeah, it would’ve been the ‘right thing to do’. Don’t think that most of those Glaives over there aren’t judging your every action for not having done so. But if I wanted you to pick up this bond instead of me I would just tell you. This has nothing to do with you or me or any social rule crap.” 

“Then why are we even out here?” Noctis kept his voice as quiet as possible. Another question that caught Ignis off guard. 

Gladio shook his head and crossed his arms in irritation. “I’m out here because a pack mate is fleeing for his life thinking we’re going to ship him back to some underground lab. Everybody’s so upset he’s got that tattoo, yeah? Everybody thinks he’s out to kill you when he’d prefer it if you killed him. And you wanna know why he hasn’t just blown out his brains, Noct?” Gladio’s voice grew louder with heavy downpour. “Because I’ll end up dead. He wants the bond to wear off. He wants it to not settle. He wants you to have your Shield. He-”

Ignis stepped forward, putting himself between the two alphas. The rain insufferably loud now. “That is quite enough.”

“That’s why I’m out here. I don’t know why you’re out here.” Gladio snapped, talking over Ignis’s shoulder. It was clear whatever had happened to the Shield during his comatose state had unsettled him far more than Ignis had initially suspected. Even Noct was taken aback by the alpha’s frantic words. 

“Gladio,” Ignis kept his temper in check. “Need I remind you we’re on the Royal Arm Trials. It’ll take less time to confirm this bond. We don’t have weeks and weeks to spare while you and Prompto go through withdrawal.”  
“Fine. We can take drugs.”

“That’s not how-…the drugs will have diminishing returns.” Ignis stepped out from between them and took a deep breath. He tried to project a collected, logical emotion but could barely sustain his own peace-of-mind. Noctis spewed out despondency and regret while Gladio seethed with animosity and anxiety. The advisor felt off balance. 

He didn’t realize until then how desperately Prompto was needed. 

Gladio had been right when he always called the man Sunshine and Summer. Even without being outwardly an omega, the blond had acted as one for them anyway. Gladio was spring; violent, and unpredictable, but still spirited and hopeful. Noctis was autumn; forlorn and resigned, but still vibrant and steadfast. And Ignis himself sometimes felt like winter; cold and precise, but not without clarity and elegance. The advisor needed that breeze of summer to dispatch any fury built up between the two alphas before he could bring both under control. 

Ignis tried to keep his panic muted. He should have recognized Prompto’s identity before now. In hindsight it was so easy to see how much the blond had meant to them all. It obvious the man was an omega dealing out joy and happiness and well wishes. The three of them had been grounding their emotions and scents on Prompto without even realizing it.

Ignis wanted the best for Noctis and the best was making sure Sunshine and Summer returned to his place in their pack. 

“Look, Noct,” Gladio took one step forward. “There are reasons he didn’t tell anybody, even you. And yeah, you can get the gist from that interview. He ain’t an enemy. And yeah, fine, if he wants a bite I’ll do it. But we’ve thrown him out into the deep end and before we teach him how to swim we gotta stop him from drowning.”

Ignis titled his head to the side, impressed again. “That was quite the metaphor, Gladio.”

Gladio eyed the advisor. “I read.”

Noctis sighed and his shoulders sagged as some of the regret faded. The prince hadn’t been expecting their confrontation to play out as it had. All that resentment he had planned to deal with just wasn’t there. “Just…just know that I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“None of us did.” Ignis reassured the prince. 

Before Gladio got a chance to respond the trio was called over by the Glaives. None of them hurried until they saw one the Glaives holding Gladio’s baseball cap the blond had taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet boiling babies, thank you for all those lovely comments (and kudos. jezuz). I appreciate them so, so much. Thanks for sticking with it.


	10. Chapter 10

“We’ve located the omega,” one the Glaives reported.

Noctis held his breath.

“Alive.”

Noctis exhaled. Of course, alive. Gladio was still with them and hadn’t felt any such detachment.

“I found him,” Crowe spoke. “We were just scouting out paths to take. He’s got himself wedged into the back of this hut.”

“Got a real nasty looking shoulder wound,” Nyx continued. “Found two dead mushussu nearby with the hat, so he might be poisoned again too. We called out and shined a light, but he reeks real bad. Obviously doesn’t want anybody getting near him.”

“Where?” Gladio questioned trying not to let the worry show itself in his voice. Noctis was glad had read his Shield so wrong. When the discussion about Prompto happened the future king expected there to be great surges of resentment and rage. He had been waiting for Gladio to nearly snap his neck off for the binding.

“This way,” Nyx urged them to follow him.

The group left the herd of chocobos behind to stalk beyond Nyx quietly.

Noctis’s heart hammered hard in his chest. He desperately wanted this to be over with. He just wanted his pack back to normal. If he had a choice between Royal Arm trials or this he would’ve gladly gone back to the tombs. No questions asked.

Even if he had to do it all in a storm, he would have. He was getting used to the never ending rain by now anyway. The occasional near-by lightning strike no longer caused him to jump. Nor did he flinch when furious streaks of lightning ran rampant in the clouds.

The trials meant he had some aspect of control over his pack’s health. He knew he’d be in for a rough time after each tomb but that was expected. His father warned him how much it’d hurt from the king’s own experiences. Noct had no control over poison and the pain his Shield and best friend were experiencing. The last thing he wanted was Prompto suffering because of some dumb larva – or because he made a dumb decision to have Gladio bind with him.

The horde of Glaives and Noct’s pack came to a stop a short distance from a dilapidated hut on the shoreline. It probably had once been a supply shack for the fishing camp that used to thrive at the location. Noct had watched old videos on the internet about fishing trips to the Vesperpool with jealousy. However, since the wall had been minimized to only Insomnia before his birth, any holiday locations beside Galdin Quay were long abandoned.

“We could have our latent betas go first?” the Glaive that smelled liked sour candy suggested.

“No, we’ll try first,” Noctis replied.

Sour candy nodded and motioned for the packs to hold position. The trio didn’t bother to be quiet as they approached. They didn’t want to startle the omega with their sudden appearance.

At first there was no smell and Noct hoped Prompto had just been warning off anybody he didn’t immediately recognize. He hoped as soon as the blond saw his pack he’d turn himself in and they could all head to the safety of a haven for the night.

However as soon as they aimed a flashlight at the back of the hut a wave of oppression hit them hard. Prompto’s smell gave Noct the feeling of being a child again and fearing that at any moment a daemon was going to crawl out from under the bed. All his senses were telling him to flee.

Ignis lurched momentarily, acting like he was either going to pass out or throw up, before jerking his hand up to cover his nose. Gladio shook next to him, as if he was cold, before going rigid and trying not to back off.

Prompto was lodged into a corner; his knees pushed up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs, and his face hidden. There was a noticeable bite mark on his shoulder where he had fought off local wildlife; not big enough to cause extreme blood loss but deep enough to leave scars if left untreated.

“Prompto?” Noctis called out.

Abruptly the blond’s head looked up and glossy, bright blue eyes widen in dread. “Noct?”

“Yeah.” Noct knelt down and put the flashlight on the ground. He held up his hands to make sure Prompto knew he currently had no weapon summoned. “Gladio and Ignis are here too.”

“Hey, Sunshine,” Gladio spoke gently.

“Hello, Prompto.” Ignis greeted.

Prompto watched as the Shield and advisor also held up their hands as they knelt down, trying to instinctively show they meant no harm. The overpowering smell faded and the blond uncurled from his protected position.

“I’m sorry,” Prompto muttered, bowing his head. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s okay. We’re not mad.” Noctis said. He expected to be dealing with a wild omega, like the night he ordered Gladio to bite him. He expected energy and smells and emotions to be churning recklessly around the hut. He thought Prompto would have kept up the oppression but the blond seemed in control, coherent, and capable of controlling his abilities.

“Nobody’s gonna send you back to the Nifs,” Gladio spoke. “I promise you.”

“Indeed. We’re here to bring you back to safety.” Ignis backed up the Shield.

“How?” The omega furrowed his brow, confused that they seemed to already know why he was hiding.

“There will be ample time for discussion once we get to a haven,” Ignis said.

Prompto shook his head back and forth. “Can’t you just leave me here?”

“No,” Noctis’s said before he realized he had done so.

“Can you walk?” Ignis asked.

Prompto bit his lip and remained quiet for a moment. “I don’t feel so good.” He murmured trying to push himself to his feet.

Noctis didn’t bother to tell the omega to summon potions. The future king yanked a pair of vials out of the ethereal realm and began to scoot forward. He had to stop himself from projecting any dominance and obedience towards the omega. He took his cue to remain as scentless as possible from Gladio who only smelled vaguely of his natural scent; pine trees and backyard bonfires.

“We got the antidote for mushussu posion?” the Shield asked the advisor.

Ignis held out his hand and summoned the correct vial into his hands. “There’s more if needed.”

Gladio took the antidote and approached the omega with Noct. Prompto took the first potion without hesitation, crushing it in shaky hands and letting the pale, blue light wash over him. The shoulder bite faded from an ugly mess to shallow, inflamed puncture wounds. The second potion helped alleviated his feverish skin and the antidote removed the glossy haze from his eyes.

“Thanks,” Prompto whispered. He unexpectedly leaned too far forward too fast and Gladio reached out to catch him. At the contact the blond shook his head, trying to fend off fatigue, and pulled away from the touch.

The omega’s control slipped only momentarily, but it gave Noctis his first real smell of the blond. Peonies and freshly cut grass; he could see the summer sun coming through the leaves in the tress in the royal gardens, he could hear gardeners chatting and the birds singing, he could feel the heat on his face, and taste the ice cream an attendant had just handed to him.

Then he was back in the hut; rain pouring and thunder slamming against the atmosphere. He caught himself before vocalized how amazing the brief moment had been. Had Prompto really just felt how stressed they all were and cast such a strong smell Noct had forgotten everything for a few seconds? Noctis pursed his lips and wondered if Gladio was fighting the urge to clutch the blond in a protective hold.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Prompto stammered.

Gladio took a deep breath to steady himself.

“Prom, we need to lea-” Noct began and then found himself thrown to ground. At first he thought he had tripped or been overwhelmed by the omega. But then there was another quake and he realized Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto were bracing themselves as well.

Then there was another mad shake of the earth. Another, this one closer. The hut rattled and threatened to fall down.

Somebody screamed outside: “Daemons!”

“Shit,” Gladio spat out.

“We need to move,” Ignis called and grabbed Noctis by his raincoat, hauling him away from the hut.

With the bright bursts of lightning from the storm Noct could make out the silhouettes of several iron giants striding towards the shoreline, as well as shadows of goblins circling around the Glaives.

“Into your packs!” the sour candy Glaive shouted. “Get the prince to a haven!”

“Wait! No!” Noctis yelled but his voice was drowned out by thunder. Ignis’s grip was replaced by two sets of hands on his shoulders, dragging him rapidly away.

Blue streaks danced in front of him as the Glaives warped to various positions.

“Weapons out! Check your binds! Make sure your partners are aware!” Sour candy ordered.

The landscape blurred past and the prince fought against the duo that dragged him swiftly away. When he found he couldn’t escape he opted to warp away and barely managed to jam his summoned engine blade into a tree. He dropped to the ground and took off running.

Somebody warped next to him and a hand grabbed his shoulder tightly.

“Are you crazy?” Nyx bellowed him.

“Let me go!”

Ignis stumbled into Noct’s line of sight, followed by Libertus.

“What are you doing?” the advisor yelled.

Noctis could feel the alarm the advisor was sending at him but pushed it away. He warped away again, landed on the ground, and rolled sideways to avoid a patch of tree roots.

A small hand snapped out at his ankle; cold and reeking of rotten eggs. The goblin laughed at him but the prince gave it a hard kick, sending it flying backwards. Another goblin leapt out from a tree and clutched at the prince’s head, yanking him backwards.

A dagger whistled through the air and pierced the creature’s chest. The daemon dissolved instantly and Noctis was back up on his feet, running down the shoreline towards the battle. Ignis and Nyx called out to him but he could only make out distant, gargled voices over the rain, wind, and thunder. Not that he would have listened anyway. He wasn’t abandoning Prompto after all that had happened.

The packs of Glaive moved with practiced but unnerved movements. They were prepared for war and training didn’t exactly cover chasing lost omegas out into the abandoned wilds in the middle of the night during a storm. It wasn’t even the entire unit; some packs probably missing members as well. If they all survived this Noctis reminded himself to get ready for a long lecture about abusing the Kingsglaive for his own personal whims.

Swarms of goblins had been taken out but the iron giants remained by the time Noctis made it back. Gladio skirted along the edges attempting to keep anything from sneaking away and going in the direction Noctis assumed he had been dragged away in.

The prince’s eyes scanned for signs of the blond. The hut was gone; Noct figured one of the hulking giants had taken it out. He dashed towards the pile of lumber hoping that if Prompto was under there his Shield currently would not be engaging in battle.

“There’s two more out in the water!” A Glaive screamed.

“Flanking packs go east!”

“Focus on this one!”

“I think we pissed off a group of sahagin!”

Noctis tugged and tossed the splintered timber finding no signs of his friend. Somewhere he could hear the scramble of another goblin pacing around him. By the time he looked up to find it, the creature was already in his face reaching out at him, teeth barred in a frenzied grin.

He thought it was blast of thunder but when the goblin dissolved away he realized the sound had been a bullet. Prompto was just a few paces away, leaning against a tree with gun out.

“Dude, you really shouldn’t be here,” he huffed out, trying to keep his balance.

Noctis was at his side in seconds. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Prompto forced a smile and even Noctis knew the blond was lying. “Gladio and I are taking care of the goblins. Some of them chased after you. Why are you here?”

“Looking for you,” Noctis replied. Of course the blond was fighting. Prompto would walk the length of Lucis with swords in his back just to help an old lady cross the street.

“We’ve got three basilisks in-coming from the west!” a voice rang out.

“Send the latents after them! Have the omegas retreat to the back lines!”

“Noct!” Gladio’s voice called over to them.

The advisor, Nyx, and Libertus were all standing next to the Shield.

“This way!” Ignis waved at duo.

Noctis pulled one of Prompto’s arms around his neck and they hobbled towards the incoming group. This time he could clearly smell the omega but Prompto made no attempt to soothe any of the panic the prince felt.

“You go back with Crowe,” Nyx motioned to Libertus, pointing at the battle that seemed to draw ever closer to them. “They’re going to need as many omegas as possible.”

Libertus hesitated for a moment, nodded, and then warped away.

“They’re going to be overwhelmed soon,” Noctis stated. He could feel the weaving of smells and emotions sparking and skittering across the packs. The omegas forced out energy, the betas channeled the energy, and the alphas absorbed; all fighting at the same time while maintaining the delicate flow.

“Can’t do anything about it now,” Gladio gruffed. The Shield asked no questions before he squatted down and gestured to Noctis. The prince helped Prompto over to ride piggy back on the Shield.

“I could help,” Prompto muttered with drooping eyelids.

“Nope.” Gladio stood back up with the omega in tow. “Let’s move.”

They rushed away from the shoreline, not getting very far before a basilisk tried to ambush them. Nyx and Ignis stayed behind to take it down while Gladio and Noctis kept going.

“How close are we?” Noctis shouted above a roar of thunder.

“I don’t know. Iggy just pointed this way.” Gladio shouted back.

In the downpour everything seemed to blend together. The ground drenched from days of rain made their escape even harder. Plus, once the daemons appeared the wildlife seemed to follow suit, angry at the loud intrusion into their domain.

Noctis assumed wrong that all the darken spots in their path were large puddles when one morphed into arm that jutted from the ground. All too quickly another iron giant was in their path and an attempted dodge left them sprawled out on the ground, barely avoiding a hit from the massive weapon that cleaved several trees down in its wake.

“Stay with him,” Gladio barked at Noctis, pushing Prompto into the prince before he summoned his weapon and launched forward.

There were a few times in Noctis’s life he really considered his own death.

Of course, the first being when he ended up in Tenebrae; even when he woke up from the coma he couldn’t find the strength to raise a spoon to his mouth. His father had to feed him. Assistants had to help him bathe, go to the bathroom, and change clothing. Ignis and Galdio were summoned from Lucis to help when the nurses needed a break. He had muffled memories of the young advisor, Shield, and Luna talking quietly to each other while he tried to fight a fever.

The second time was when he was…what, thirteen? He couldn’t remember. He spent a month in bed because puberty hit him hard and developing glands didn’t mix well with an already weakened individual linked to the crystal. Gods he hated everybody during that time (except Ignis). Everything smelled bad (except Ignis). Everything tasted bad (except what Ignis brought him to eat) (and don’t think the thought didn’t cross his mind what Ignis would taste like too – Oh gods he’d never admit to those awkward first sexual thoughts). Eventually he adjusted to his new growing abilities and glands but never forgot the initial shock of the change.

The third time he was in high school and needed an appendix removed. Prompto found him in the bathroom hunched over in so much pain. Noctis thought he was in for a bad time on the toilet – he did have bean sprouts in his lunch after all. Prompto called Ignis and the next thing Noct knew was waking up in a hospital.

Naturally he thought the trials might kill him too, but he had been warned about the pain many times. Not to mention his pack was well prepared to deal with a sick prince afterwards.

Noctis had never considered dying to daemons though, especially not out in the middle of nowhere holding onto Prompto while sinking into the mud and watching a debilitated Gladio attempt to fight off an iron giant.

He pulled himself off the ground and yanked Prompto to his feet. The blond slanted forward once but kept his balanced, letting Noctis lead him away from the battle.

Noctis’s eyes searched for Ignis or Nyx but could barely see in mess of the storm. He headed back to the shore hearing the iron giant behind them rushing towards them.

Prompto tugged his hand away. “Just go. I’m slowing you down.”

Noct didn’t have time to debate the statement when the daemon appeared so close behind them. The massive creature swung its cleaver at the pair and the prince was slammed to the ground by Prompto. Mud and grime painted itself on his face and he sat up, coughing out grass and pebbles.

The giant would have stomped right on top of them if it weren’t for the appearance of Gladio, Ignis, and Nyx. Noctis glanced at Prompto who was slowly trying to sit up and wiping the mud from his eyes.

The prince got to his feet and summoned his engine blade. They weren’t going to make it to a haven - that was clear. And although he knew everybody present would argue his life was more important than everybody else, Noctis charged at the giant anyway.  
He didn’t even get one whack at the creature before the strangest thing began to happen. The rain stopped. The clouds faded and…the sun came out? That couldn’t right, he thought absently. It was night. The weapon in his hands and the heavy rain gear became weightless. He stopped a breath away from the giant in awe at the suddenly beautiful day.

In slow motion he watched the iron giant raise its axe and he didn’t seem to really care. He felt safe and watched Gladio leap up behind the creature and bring his great sword right down in the middle the daemon, cutting it in two halves before it whooshed away into nothingness.

When the prince turned to face the Glaives he saw most of them moving as one body; almost like birds in flight patterns (the latent betas all stood to the side, mouths open in shock and fear). The swarm of black uniforms moved over and around the agitated wildlife in swift, precise movements as if they had practiced such a procedure several times. The herd split up in even bundles taking out goblins like they were on a training excursion before coming back together to take on the iron giants.

The thought occurred to Noctis that he was dead; stuck in some surreal dream. He watched Gladio, Ignis, and Nyx sprint past him and join the pack of Glaives.

Wait. Where was….? Noct looked for Prompto.

The omega was back on his feet standing perfectly still and staring at the action much the same way Noct stared at his video games; focused and intense, least he lose concentration and the game end.

He understood then that Prompto was almost playing a video game. The omega had control of all of them, even Noctis to a degree. Like a skilled puppet master the omega pulled and pushed at the binds as if conducting an orchestra.

When the last iron giant crumbled Noct felt like somebody shoved him back out into the storm. It was night again. The rain slammed against him. Lightning smeared across the dark sky in vivid, quick displays of power. All at once he felt the miserable weight of the raincoat and the cold steel of his engine’s blade handle.

He swallowed hard a few times and tried to calm the greatly unnerved feeling inside of him. It wasn’t the best feeling going from thinking you were going to die, to being happily dazed in some forced state, then right back to distress.

His attention moved swiftly to Prompto who tumbled down and caught himself on his hands before his face crashed into the ground. The omega was breathing heavy and erratic and Noct could tell from a few paces away the blond had a bad nose bleed.

The Glaive on the shoreline were either hunched over catching their breath or sitting in the mud in a stupor. Ignis leaned against a tree, rubbing his temples in pain while Gladio sat baffled and exhausted. The latent betas ran back into the group of Glaives and at once began to look for injuries.

Noctis had a few seconds of relief. He wobbled towards Prompto thinking they were safe for now. They could retreat to a haven for the rest of the night. The Glaive could all summon tents and supplies they kept stored in the ethereal realm. It wouldn’t be pleasant but several tents could be pitched together and they’d get some rest. All they had to do was survive the storm now.

The prince glanced again at the Glaives to make sure they were okay. He didn’t expect a few of them to be charging forward nor did he expect some of them warping right at Prompto, their faces contorted in wrath and disgust.

“It’s a monster!”

“That’s a Magitek!”

“Daemon! Monster!”

“Kill it!”

Sour candy threw a dagger right at the helpless blond.

Noctis warped forward without thinking. He put himself on top of the omega and felt the blade slice right into his shoulder, where it hit the bone and shattered. Despite the pain he clung to his friend anyway.

The blade disappeared into the ethereal realm and immediately the Glaive were all gasping and down on their knees. Sour candy vomited out apologizes like a broken vending machine spitting out its entire stock. Ignis sprinted towards the disaster, summoning potions like an equally broken vending machine.

In the chaos of it nobody noticed the cockatrices until the beasts were practically right on top of them. Nobody was prepared in any way for a fight this time and nobody had to be. Lightning veined out of the sky with meticulous accuracy and the birds were dust in one enormous, loud burst of power.

The rain stopped. Actually stopped this time and Noctis had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t in some hazy reality again. The clouds thinned. Somewhere in the back of his mind somebody was congratulating him, telling him ‘well done’, and promising aid to the next king.

All Noctis could think about was the quivering body in his arms and praying there were enough potions available to fix this mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all wonderful people. Have yourselves a good day. :)


	11. Chapter 11

Prompto did not expect to wake up and, if he did, he assumed it would be only momentarily while being dissected in some Lucis lab. He was satisfied his last actions could save the prince, even if it meant Gladio might go down with him. He hoped the bond was weak enough by then though and the Shield would only pass out.

He had been so angry at himself for making Noctis come looking for him. He had put the future of all Lucis at great risk for his own personal safety. It was such a foolish idea to think he could’ve gotten away and just live out in the wilds. Of course they’d find him eventually. Of course he should’ve never run away in the first place. He should have given himself up to whatever would’ve helped Lucis.

By the time the mushussu attacked it was too late to just walk back to Lestallum though. Prompto had quickly severed any connection to Gladio he still had, took down the beasts, and found his way to the nearest shelter.

He did not plan to wake up again, not in the shelter with his pack there, and especially not after he saw the angry mob of Glaives rushing to him. He didn’t blame them for their fury either. He had just given them all the more reason to hate him.

So when Prompto did wake up again he was first surprised to be alive at all. Astonishment turned into confusion because he wasn’t in a lab, but held against a warm body while somebody spread cool gel over his side where the larva needles had gone in.

A flash of panic surged up his spine but abruptly the feeling was extinguished by a forceful wave of contentment; this caused more panic that, again, was blocked out. It was alphas. It was definitely alphas trying to make him…comfortable? It was unexpected and took long moments of him trying to panic again before he adjusted to the odd demands. What he thought odd anyway. He expected any alpha enforcement to be like impenetrable walls that choked and smothered. This was more like being rolled up in a blanket fresh from the dryer.

“You’re okay, Prom.” Noctis’s voice told him. “Just relax.”

Prompto kept his eyes closed and sighed into the arms that held him, enjoying the chilly gel against the burn of the irritated skin. He got the first real smell of his pack then and none of them made any effort to stop him. He got the impression they wanted him to explore the new smells and emotions he had access to.

Noctis smelled of sea and sugar and sadness. The prince’s shoulder ached but most of his emotions were focused on relief and fatigue. His love for Ignis felt brilliant and bright and endless; as well as his love for his Shield and his best friend and Noctis was so terrified of losing any of them.

Ignis smelled of pastries and peroxide and patience. The advisor needed Prompto to be okay. The man was beside himself fearing an important piece of the pack wouldn’t be restored and everything would be unstable forever. Ignis wanted that balance back. Everything needed to be back in its place.

And Gladio. Gods, Gladio smelled so good. Flowers and fire and fortitude and ferns and the forest and…failure? Something didn’t seem quite right. The Shield, out of all of them, seemed full of apologies and despair. Even if the alpha was providing security for Prompto the omega felt as if the Shield was dazed and lost in some fog.

Prompto thought perhaps it was the bond and when he focused his attention back on his body he could clearly make out the pressure building on his neck. The alpha hadn’t bitten him again. He was both glad and dismayed about it.

Of course now that they knew his secret nobody would think about bonding with him, right? But at the same time, he didn’t want to be considered somebody’s battery and blow up doll. He wanted it but he didn’t want it and he really hadn’t thought that much about it until now. Not really thought about it anyway.

“Okay, I think that’ll be good till we can get to proper facilities.” Ignis stated. “Sit him up a bit more. Noctis, the bandage roll, please.”

He realized it was the Shield who had been holding onto to him when he felt himself shifting positions. Gentle hands wrapped gauze all the way around his chest and tied the bandages to the ones he felt wrapped sideways around his chest and shoulder (the bite having already been cleaned, gelled, and dressed).

“Well?” Ignis asked.

Prompto assumed the question wasn’t addressed to him. He kept his eyes closed and let himself continue to float in the peaceful state both alphas kept him in.

“How about some food next?” Noctis asked.

“No, no thank you.” Gladio’s words came out with a sour tone. “I’d rather not give my stomach an excuse to throw up.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.” Noctis retorted.

Ignis sighed. “It might do him some good but better safe than sorry. I’d rather not be cleaning up vomit for the remainder of the night.” A Pause. “Let’s just get it over with.”

“Yeah, okay,” Noctis’s response was less than enthusiastic.

“Gladio?” Ignis questioned.

“Stop asking me,” Gladio said. “I can make it through the night. Stop worrying.”

Prompto felt himself arranged comfortably on a bedroll, his head laid on Gladio’s lap while the Shield’s hands held his head in place.

Oh.

Oh, now they were going to bite him. Maybe all of them this time, not just Gladio. Of course they were going to make him feel sedated and happy while they took away his freewill and autonomy. Maybe they saw what he was capable of and realized such a monster needed several individuals to keep him leashed. Prompto inwardly braced himself for the pain. At least it was people he liked with the leash, right?

He whimpered at the tiniest prick on his neck and then realized it wasn’t teeth, it was a needle. His eyes shot open and the memory of the lab tables, the betas, and the smell of rotten eggs flooded his senses.

He was instantly heaved out of the memory by that same feeling of being wrapped in a warm blanket. He hadn’t even realized he was crying until he noticed Gladio above him, wiping at his cheeks.

“Iggy’s just draining the gland. I know it’s probably pretty uncomfortable,” Gladio told him.

“We’ll have a bigger mess to deal with if it pops itself open,” Ignis informed.

“You’re not going to bite me?” Prompto squeaked out, bewildered.

Gladio scrunched up his face in confusion. “Do you want me to?”

Did he?

No.

Yes.

Wait.

This was optional? Prompto assumed nobody would ever ask him, even though he was certain his adoptive parents had talked about it many times before his mother was bound. She seemed so much happier after that, finally being off suppressants.

Plus Noctis had confined in him that the prince and advisor discussed a bond many weeks in advance (Gladio knew too. The secret had been keeping it from everybody else).

Oh, and he knew that omega in high school that had this big, beautiful wedding just after graduation where the omega made an official announce about a mate bound.

All the Glaives had meetings, piles of paperwork, and counseling before any bond took place.

But-

Prompto applied none of that to himself. There must be some dreadful undercurrent of subjugation underneath all of those bonds that nobody ever talked about. Instinct was instinct, right?

Off of suppressants now, he wanted a bond. He hated himself for the feeling but the prospect didn’t seem so bad. It wasn’t the overpowering, will-breaking scenario he had built up in his nightmares.

“Prompto?” Noctis appeared above him.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, barely audible.

“We can’t let it go.” Ignis spoke more to Gladio and Noct than to Prompto.

“It won’t hurt,” Noctis ignored Ignis, still looking down at Prompto. “It shouldn’t anyway.” He paused, looking away, and then returned with a rueful gaze. “If I knew what you’d be though – why you were hiding all this – I wouldn’t have told Gladio to do it.”

“I wouldn’t have started a bond if I knew either,” Gladio added. “We all think it’s okay if you go back on suppressants for a bit.”

“How did you know? About…about that labs?” Prompto thought back to the hut by the shoreline. It was a rather odd statement the Shield made.

Gladio glanced nervously at the other two before taking a deep breath. “First, let me start by saying I’m not mad. But, look, when you forced that whole sleeping shit on me, I sort of….I think…I saw some of your memories. I know about the labs. I know about that girl with the brown hair. Astrals, I know you’re probably better at survival than I am. For gods’ sake Prompto all those times you told me you couldn’t start a fire-nevermind, that’s not the point. The point is you’ve got some serious crap to deal with and there are people back in Insomnia that can help. People that want to help. And we can help too, now that we know. Packs are good for that sort of shit.”

At first all Prompto felt was cold and numb by the statement. He didn’t know such a thing was possible. Although it wasn’t like he had ever kept an alpha so senseless for so long. Nor had he ever been through the beginning stages of a bond. Now he knew why Gladio smelled of failure and despair.

The idea that the Shield had been exposed to such agony brought on more disappointment in himself. He didn’t mean to cause Gladio more pain. Noctis needed his Shield to be free from such burdens. Oh gods, he was making it worse.

“I’m sorry,” Prompto croaked, trying not to cry more.

“Okay, you know what?” Gladio huffed. “You can’t say that anymore. You’re not allowed.”

“Why are you sorry?” Noctis sounded beside himself. “Did you mean for him to see that?”

Prompto shook his head back and forth as best he could. The omega felt the stress building in the room and how exhausted everybody felt and…and he needed to do something. Everybody was so worried and it was his fault and -

“Don’t you dare,” Noctis barked.

The warm blanket around him tightened and any effort he made to project serenity in the room faded away.

Gladio smoothed a hand over his forehead and hair. “Easy, easy. We’re running low on potions.”

Comfort was nice Prompto decided. At least right now it was okay. Nobody seemed very keen to break his mind and turn him into a mindless generator. Nor did he get the notion they meant for him to ceaselessly distribute bliss and optimism. They asked nothing of him nor were they punishing him.

“Prompto,” Ignis began. “It would be best if we just drained the gland right now. Keeping you feeling pain free is a slight strain on us. And while we discussed keeping you sleeping, we thought it only fair to let you wake up for a bit. But both the prince and Shield need to rest soon. You as well. So I’m going to continue, okay?”

“Won’t it cause problems? What about the trials?” Prompto asked apprehensively. No, just give him more time. He wanted to think about it more. Maybe there was a chance everything could be okay. Instinct fought with rationality. Emotions fought with sore memories.

“We have no choice now but to put the trials on hold, especially considering Noctis now needs the time as well. You’ll be hospitalized for a while.” Ignis explained.

“We can vomit buddies,” Gladio grinned at him. “And whenever I get loopy you can take pictures and send them to Noct for blackmail material later.”

“What do you mean ‘get’ loopy? Aren’t you already?” Noctis raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t sass me,” Gladio glared at the prince. “I’ve had a long day.”

Oh gods, Prompto missed them. A small voice inside of him screamed that none of them would hurt him. Bonds were natural. Niflheim was unnatural. “Won’t I have to be bonded?”

Ignis raised a hand to rub the bridge of his nose in weariness. “Perhaps, but there is no way for us to make such a call currently. Your health is going to be scrutinized as official Crownsguard. If or when you can no longer handle suppressants you will have to face the chance of removal from this position.”

“Ignis!” Noctis snapped.

Ignis gave Noctis a small, lopsided smile. “I’m not lying and he is asking questions. I think despite whatever reservations and fears our Prompto has, perhaps he’s looking for a good reason for the change. Omegas want a bond.” The advisor looked down at him then. “Correct?”

Prompto gave a small nod. It wasn’t like the truth was a secret now. Moreover that warm blanket feeling was nice; a natural suppressant. He could smell and feel without being bombarded with, well, with everything. He still could think too. Nobody was telling him not to think. Nobody was giving him any orders.

“You and Gladio could mate bond too,” Noctis smiled knowingly.

“Can you not make this more awkward than it already is?” Gladio scowled.

“Nope.” Noct smirked at the Shield.

“I don’t why I bother sometimes,” Ignis shook his head. “And no, that is not happening right now. He’s been through some thirty odd potions and three phoenix elixirs. I’m weary to even let Gladio bite him until we can get to the hospital.”

Prompto knew the three of them spoke all in good spirits but found himself shivering nonetheless. He knew his mother had been happy with his father. He knew Ignis and Noctis were happy. He’d seen a few of the mate bonded Glaives beaming coyly at each other and sneaking in chaste kisses when on patrol.

But that didn’t apply to him. It never applied to him. He’d just end up being that brown haired girl.

That blanket around him didn’t tighten but it felt like several other blankets were added to it and he let himself be buried in that security. A deluge of good smells and good intentions dragged him away from any hysteria.

“Sorry,” Noctis muttered apologetically. “I didn’t mean…..”

“I’m just going to drain it,” Ignis exhaled loudly.

“No,” Prompto yelped. He wanted changed. He wanted to be okay being completely part of their pack. He didn’t want Gladio sick in the hospital for weeks. Gladio promised they wouldn’t send him back to Niflheim and at least the Shield wouldn’t lie about that. He didn’t want to be a battery but maybe he could be good at it. Maybe Gladio wouldn’t expect him to give up the entirety of his being. He could still help Noctis become king.

“Prom, I don’t think-” Gladio began.

“I want to help.”

“This isn’t about helping,” Gladio said sadly.

“If it’s one of you maybe it’ll be okay?”

“It’s not about that either,” Gladio paused. “I mean, a little, but you’re scared. We can all smell it.”

“I’m sorr-” Prompto caught himself and stopped. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened his eyes again. “Do you want to be bound? To me?” The omega pushed out the question with a tremor in his tone. Even with the layers of contentment stacked on him he couldn’t stop himself from shaking.

“What?” Gladio was taken aback by the question. The Shield opened his mouth again to answer and then remained silent for a moment. He glanced at Noctis who looked away, ashamed, then back at Prompto. “Sunshine, it would be an honor.”

It took Prompto a few seconds to process the answer. He had been expecting a hesitant ‘Yes’ or ‘Prince’s orders’ or ‘I’m probably your best option’. But an honor? For Astral’s sake, he was the future king’s Shield! Bond to some Niflheim runaway?

“Okay.” Prompto stopped his shivering. Instinct comprised with prudence. Emotion won with an ample inventory of positive memories.

“Okay?” Gladio asked to make sure.

“Okay.” Prompto readied himself for discomfort.

The trio lifted him up with his back against Gladio’s chest. Ignis moved off to the side and Noctis sat down in front of Prompto, holding onto the omega’s hand.

Gladio kissed his cheek first, then chin, and then neck to give Prompto a countdown. The omega squeezed his friend’s hand hard but was suddenly worried the Shield had changed his mind. He didn’t feel a bite at all.

He did feel a flood of euphoria engulf him; so much so that he couldn’t feel if Noctis was even holding his hand anymore.

It was like the feeling of the sun passing over his face when Ignis had the Regalia’s roof rolled down during a ride down a forested road. Or sand squishing between his toes, the call of the seagulls above, and the waves of Galdin Quay lapping at his ankles; Noctis on the pier fishing, Ignis and Gladio underneath an umbrella reading and chatting. Or a rainy day at the citadel where they were all bunched together on the couch, watching stupid internet videos and playing King’s Knight; a clock ticking in the back, the rain tapping against the windows, and the worries of the world lost in laughter and the taste of chips and dip that Ignis brought.

It made him feel human; wanted and loved and good enough.

The bond wasn’t a wall or cage either. It wasn’t some leash that Gladio could yank at. It was a filter; a fence that only he had the key to; a garden maze that only he could navigate through to reach a safe, secluded spot where the rest of the world had no access to him –including Gladio who built and maintained the garden.

He was very much aware of his two pack mates and, suddenly, the many other tents close by filled with Glaives. But now he had a choice if he wanted to smell or feel all those around him.

When Prompto opened his eyes again he was lying down on his good side with his back pressed up against Gladio, the Shield spooned protectively around him. In front of him was Noctis, dozing, with Ignis curled up behind the prince sleeping soundly. Even in sleep, Noct was still holding the omega’s out stretched hand protectively; a gesture of assurance they were all one pack and he was safe.

“Still okay?” Gladio whispered behind him.

Prompto answered by tugging gently at the mental thread that connected them now. He thought: ‘I’m okay. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.’

Gladio pressed just a little more against him and sighed contentedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done. Thank you for persevering and for all the comments/kudos. I'm tickled kirby pink that people have actually read and enjoyed me tampering with a/b/o stuff. Thank you for being amazing. ^_^


	12. Chapter 12

For being only five in the evening the hallway of the royal suites remained unusually quiet. Ignis knew he shouldn’t be startled it was so peaceful, what with a binding occurring, but it seemed so bizarre to not have servants flitting about and various packs of Glaive playing cards, watching TV, and keeping a general guard of the area. The large hallway was purposively set up with lounging areas and kitchenettes for the Glaives to feel comfortable.

The normally active hub of the citadel now only greeted Ignis with a few packs. They nodded or bowed quietly as his passed, some even whispering a ‘your highness’ as he went by. A title he still hadn’t gotten used.

All the foyers to the numerous apartments were closed without assigned packs wandering around. Ignis knew the king was out, so the penthouse at the end of the hallway was empty. If the king was out that meant his personal Crownsguard pack was as well; Cor had a single unit that would be empty, Weskham would be gone but his mate might be in, and the Amicitia chambers would be void of Clarus and his mate. Iris was probably at some school event or training.

Cid no longer resided in the Sophiar lodgings, even if he was still technically part of the Crownguard. The mechanically minded beta had some sort of falling out with the king. Nobody ever pressed questions about it. The only reason the staff hadn’t reassigned the suite was because Cindy used it. She made frequent weekend trips to the citadel, advising army captains, Crownsguard, and the Glaive on vehicles and weapons. Her grandfather might have given up but the granddaughter persisted stronger than ever. There was talk of even giving her honorary Crownsguard status.

The other Crownsguard and their families had their own places too, as well a few high ranking packs of the Kingsglaive. Ignis had a place once but had moved in with Noctis since becoming the official mate of the prince two years ago.

The advisor paused as he passed the door to Prompto’s one-bedroom flat. He considered going in and moving some of the blond’s belongings to Gladio’s. Ignis was fairly certain the staff would be cleaning it out after a few weeks anyway.

He opted to not bother with personal belongings yet. He already had a crate of fresh ingredients he brought up from the citadel’s kitchens and there was plenty of time for moving later. He had to keep his mind focused on making sure the Shield and omega bonded as smoothly as possible after such a dreadful start. The advisor already felt guilty he hadn’t been able to check in as often as he would’ve liked.

He thanked a Glaive who opened and closed the foyer to Gladio’s place for him. They bowed respectfully and Ignis got the distinct impression the Glaive was acting even more formal than normal. After one of their own wounded the prince the rest of the Glaive acted particularly apologetic.

The advisor was surprised to find a basket of dirty laundry and two bags of trash sitting near the doorway inside. There was absolutely no way the alpha or omega would’ve been up cleaning. The two hadn’t even been back from the hospital for forty eight hours and the first stage of bonding included a good ninety some hours of mostly sleeping.

Ignis opened the door to the suite, expecting to find some unknowing latent beta servant. How they made it past the Glaive Ignis didn’t know. He wondered if the Glaive just assumed the servant was dropping something off quick and then forgot somebody had even gone into the Shield’s chambers.

He found the open kitchen and living area cleaned and lit up, the washer and dryer both going, soft music playing from the TV, and Iris at the sink doing dishes.

She whirled around and smacked a sud-covered hand on her forehead. “Oh! Iggy! I’m sorry!”

“Whatever for?”

“I was going to call you and tell you not to come. I’ve got it under control for tonight.”

The advisor smiled warmly. Iris had been a gods’ sent since the pack arrived back in Insomnia. When Ignis had been far too occupied with Noct, Iris had contacted him and told him not to worry about her brother and Prompto. She kept watch of her brother and the omega until both were given the okay to return to the royal suites. She texted the advisor every time a doctor cleared both of some ailment: completely poison free, all inflammation gone, no longer in danger of dehydration, animal bites starting to scab over…on and on and he was relieved with every message. She even showed up in Noct’s room once with a sandwich and ebony for him.

“I’ve been busy ever since I got here,” she started, talking fast and returning to her task. “Place was gross and I just, you know, kind of forgot to call you as soon as I got going. I’m sorry.” She smelled of strawberries and cream, goodwill and compassion. Nobody would’ve guessed she knew how to kill somebody with the fork she was cleaning off. She might not have an official Shield status but she was more than ready to serve the royal family.

“I did not expect you to keep assisting your brother so much. Aren’t your exams soon?” Ignis asked as he sat the crate down the kitchen isle. At seventeen, Iris was would be graduating in a year and it was no secret to those in the citadel that she had become a candidate for apprenticing under Cor.

“Yeah. I brought my books with me but haven’t gotten much done.” She motioned to the table where she had set up a study area. “I was going to just do some laundry and study, but when I showed up I figured, you know, you have so much to do and I wanted to help out. I was going to make a trip to my place to put in another load of wash too. Forgot that was out in the foyer.”

“You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know, but I was here anyway.” She shrugged. She might not have been part of Noct’s pack, but Ignis felt a kindred spirit in her anyway. They both had had crushes on Noctis in their youth. They both went out of their way to be prepared for anything. They shared the same fighting style; Gladio and his parents were bulwarks, but Iris clung to the shadows and had become skilled with daggers. They both had habits of being a caregiver towards those they loved.

“Have they eaten?” Ignis looked at the crate.

Iris placed the last dish in the drying rack and emptied the sink. “Yeah, I made curry but Gladio just had some cup noodles, took a shower, then had another cup noodle, and then went back to bed. I washed Prompto’s hair and helped him with a sponge bath. I was kind of worried they were still sick, you know. I mean, you read about it in school, but it’s different in person. But I looked it up on the internet and, oh, I found those books you got my brother. I read a little of those too.”

At least one of the Amicitia siblings was responsible.

Iris understood she’d be one of the few people that wouldn’t cause Gladio or Prompto any anxiety. Once a bond had a solid twenty four hours to really begin it became not only increasingly harder to separate the individuals involved but the bonding pair’s bodies went into a trance. Plus, if an alpha was part of the bond there was the chance he or she would get extra cranky about anybody being too close. Iris, however, being from Gladio’s family pack, wouldn’t be seen as any sort of threat.

It was a general rule bonding pairs were left alone with little interaction from anybody outside of their packs – at least for first stage of the bond. By now, both Gladio and Prompto should be so drugged out on each they’d act like zombies unless some sort of danger was presented. Their lethargic, drunk-like behavior had probably concerned a teenager unfamiliar with such practices.

Ignis recalled very little from the first few days of his bond (besides being wonderfully intoxicated out of his mind on Noctis’s saliva). He had only been told later the court was in an uproar about Noctis going behind their backs and mating with his advisor. However, despite whatever the court ordered about wanting the prince and Ignis to be under constant surveillance, (even if this was highly taboo for any bonding pair) they quickly changed their minds.

Noctis threw dishes at the Glaive, barricaded a doctor in the bathroom, jammed chairs against the bedroom door, broken Monica’s (of the Crownsguard) arm when he wrestled her to the ground in a some alpha rage, and even threw out Cor’s back when he lobbed a kitchen chair at the man. It was never a good idea to invade an alpha’s space once a bond really got going; perhaps even more so if it was a stubborn princely alpha that could be very possessive.

After that it was only ever Gladio or Prompto who checked in for the first few days, brought them food and water, and made sure the neck bite wasn’t infected.

“I cleaned the fridge, so there’s room if want to put your supplies there,” she continued. “I have a school trip tomorrow so it’d be great if you could come over and cook for them. Otherwise I think my mom was going to come over. Or I could skip it anyway and come tomorrow. Perk of being pre-Crownsguard means I can pretty much get out of anything.”

Ignis chuckled. “I think I can manage tomorrow unless, of course, you’d like to skip your school activity.”

“I mean, we’re touring some universities and then going to an art museum. And it’s not like I’m going to college so I could skip –but I’d rather hang out with my friends while I can.” Her tone dripped with regret on the last statement.

“I thought you were good friends with that boy in Glaive training? The curly haired one?”

“Oh, yeah,” Iris blushed a little. “Doesn’t go to my school but I’m sure I’ll be seeing him more after graduation. But, like, everybody promises to stay in contact but I know it’s not gonna happen, you know. So one more semester after this and then no more childhood. I mean, not that I’m a child anyway. This is probably boring or upsetting for you because you didn’t go to regular school. Sorry. Weren’t royal tutors boring?”

“Very much so, but I preferred it to public schooling.” Ignis replied respectfully, thankful he had the option to study by himself, but careful not to deny that many liked the comradery of a school. Although Noct had only gone to get away from the citadel and Gladio hadn’t a choice because of his constant training.

“How about I make us dinner? I intend to bring some back for Noctis anyway. I’ll bring something different for tomorrow.” Ignis suggested.

“Oh my gosh! Yes, please!” Iris answered in delight and then tried to collect herself. “That came out way more excited than I intended. It’s just, you know, you make really good food and for the past couple of days it’s just been me and the microwave.”  
“Does a vegetable stew sound good then?”

“Way better than microwave mac and cheese.”

“Good. Did you happen to check Prompto’s neck?”

“It looked okay to me, but I’m not really sure what it’s supposed to look like,” Iris admitted. “You should check to make sure I didn’t miss anything?”

“Alright. Could you start cleaning the vegetables for me?”

“Yup!”

Ignis wondered if perhaps she answered so just to give him an excuse to check anyway. He didn’t mind. He wanted a reason to make sure they were doing okay. This had been the first non-rushed evening since he returned to the citadel and he had set aside a few hours to clean Gladio’s apartment and feed the pair.

Yesterday he had been shooing away court appointed doctors from a snappy prince who just wanted to be left alone. If they had thought Noctis wasn’t doing better they wouldn’t have sent him home in the first place. But the court never listened….  
In fact it was hard to tell the court anything. They were the ones that fought with the king to make sure Noctis didn’t start his arm trials until two years later than normal; always citing his childhood encounter that almost killed him as a reason to be absolutely certain he was strong enough to undertake any task.

Ignis was surprised the nobles hadn’t protested the Shield and gunner being alone. Thankfully nobody - outside Glaive, Crownsguard, and king anyway - knew anything beyond Prompto’s omega status. If there was a good thing about the gossip that ran wild amongst the Glaive and Crownsguard it was that it stayed there. Secrets did not leave the citadel. The beta shuddered at the massive tantrums the court would be having otherwise had they’d be aware of the whole situation.

The advisor first peeked into the master bedroom of the suite only to find that Iris had even cleaned that. The drapes were half pulled, leaving the lingering light of the day to doze gently in the room along with its occupants. The floor was void of clothes or trash. The sheets smelled fresh. Gladio’s nightstand was tidied; a neat pile of the books and crossword books Ignis got him, a bottle of water, his phone (hooked up to a charger), alarm clock, and a snack bar.

Iris had placed an upside down laundry basket on Prompto’s side of the bed as a makeshift night stand; another bottle of water, a snack bar, the books Ignis got him, as well as the magazine and chocobo candies, his phone (also charging), and one of his portable gaming devices. To the side of the laundry basket was a cardboard box with stacks of clean clothes, shampoo, soap, and other bathroom necessities.

Not only had Iris set them up until tomorrow, she had already started to move the omega’s things. She might be an alpha, but would’ve made a fine beta too. Ignis made a note that Gladio and Prompto owed her a thank you.

Gladio suddenly shot up in bed and looked at the advisor with bleary recognition. Prompto followed, looking equally confused at being suddenly woken up. They both looked dazed and numb, unable to focus or orientate to their surroundings.  
“It’s just me.” Ignis said making no further movement until Gladio smelled him.

A few moments later the Shield, like a boulder plummeting to the ground, collapsed back on the bed with a grunt and went right back to sleep.

Ignis rolled his eyes. He could only imagine had he been a stranger he would’ve been pinned to the wall being strangled.

“Hi, Iggy,” Prompto blinked slowly. “S’everything ‘kay?”

Ignis sat down the bedside by the blond. “Fine, I’m just here to check the bite.”

“Oh, oh-kay.” Prompto laid back down and rolled over on his bad side – which was a good sign it was healing if he didn’t feel any pain from the damage anymore. Or he was just incredibly disconnected from reality. Probably both.

“S’Noct okay?” he slurred.

“He’s doing much better.” Ignis didn’t bother to go into detail, even if he thought perhaps the omega was paying full attention. It was such an odd thing to think an omega was the one still semi coherent and able to talk during the first stage. If somebody had asked Ignis a question during the first couple of days his only answer would have been drool.

“Is-zit ‘kay?” the blond yawned.

“Yes, it looks just fine.” Ignis hadn’t been expecting to see any infection, especially if they spent the first real twenty four hours of the bond in a hospital. There was bruising, of course, and a little redness indicating Gladio had probably recently bitten him again. After the first ninety hours or so the gland would begin to stop filling and start to scar appropriately. Their need to sleep would fade but they wouldn’t want be separated for at least another week; that’s when a mate bite was likely to happen. By the end of week three Prompto should have just a tiny, little scar on his neck to show off his bonded status.

“Are you okay?” Prompto continued to question. “I saw you when they were moving us out of the hospital. You looked tired.”

Oh dear Prompto. Ignis plopped a hand on the blond’s head affectionately and smiled. “I’ve gotten sleep since then. It’s been almost two days.”

“Oh, good. Iris was here. She made food and washed my hair.” Prompto seemed to savor the approving head pat. “She cleaned too. Gladio’s messy.”

Ignis stifled a laugh. “Go back to sleep.”

Both the alpha and omega needed to rest now. Their bodies were concentrating on mapping each other out, much like a computer running a system check; charting out veins, organs, blood flow, even the way the other body breathed. What was a thin thread between two bodies became twine, became thick rope, became a bridge, and built into a massive highway. A gift from the gods that humans could share such an intimate relationship.

“Tell Noct hi?” Prompto rolled back over and pressed against the Shield.

“I will.”

Ignis left as quietly as possible, watching the blond curl around the Shield. It was weird to think that less than four days he had been frantically performing CPR on the omega, begging and begging the gods to just give them this one break. It was such a stark, vivid memory now.

Noctis had been screaming desperate orders to save his friend while being held back by the Glaive who struggled to stop the bleeding wound on his shoulder. Ignis had attempted frantically to keep the blond’s heart beating while Nyx kept breaking potions against the omega’s chest. Somewhere in the chaos Gladio had been brought in, unconsciousness, with Glaives shrieking about a faint pulse. All the while the entire mess moved towards a haven.

It took over twenty potions and two phoenix elixirs (which the Glaive only allowed used because the Shield might die – the feathers for the potions were few and far between and very expensive) to give Prompto’s body the energy to keep going.

By the time they finally got to a haven the Glaive was worried they had depleted too much of the curative stock; it wasn’t like Regis could continuously supply an unlimited supply and there were still the rest of the Glaive and army to think about. Not to mention in the rush of it all Noct’s shoulder hadn’t even properly healed and the prince just ended up in the hospital anyway, having surgery to break and reset unaligned bone structure. Magic potions were sloppy with bodies; they kept blood in, fused bones, and put muscle and organs back to working order but had no instruction manual to fix things perfectly.

It was all too surreal and a little unsettling if Ignis was honest. He hadn’t been all that happy about being used as a puppet – although it had gotten the job done and saved everybody’s lives. Not that it was uncomfortable or painful…just odd. Sort of like having a dream where you know you’re dreaming.

Seeing an omega take over the tasks of alpha, beta, and omega left a sour feeling in everybody’s thoughts. If anybody did the controlling it was alphas. Or at least that’s what had been natural for so long. Either Niflheim found it easier to control alphas in their experimentations or that alphas ended up not having the strength to be puppet masters in the first place.

Old Solheim texts had been found subscribing to notion of the power of three (some Lucis scholars theorized latent betas only existed because of Ifrit’s betrayal). No one alpha, beta, or omega should hold absolute command over the others. Not during battle and not during more intimate times. Heats made omegas weak and needy for another. Ruts made alphas weak and needy for another. And betas could experience both depending on what their partners needed. Everything was supposed to even out.

Of course, that never stopped humanity from abusing those privileges anyway, especially when it came to “keeping omegas under control”. Perhaps that’s why Niflheim had been using the omegas as the controllers in the first place – because the naturally empathic, overly sensitive, good-natured, mediators of society were the ones who could be corrupted the most.

Ignis closed the door softly and returned to Iris.

“All good?” she asked cheerfully.

“Very much so,” he replied, trying not to give away his thoughts had strayed far from making dinner. “I’ll get the broth going and help you chop up the vegetables.”

“Okay.”

There were so many unknowns going forward that it was hard for Ignis to plan.

He hoped Prompto would learn to give up the control Niflheim forced him to have. It was not his responsibility to command troops (especially when doing so literally took the life from him). Nor was it his job to make everybody happy all the time because his instinct told him too. Still, there was no doubt he would become a powerful asset to their pack. Gladio alone would become twice the force to be reckoned with.

“I’m gonna change out the laundry real quick. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

What would happen if the court found out? Demand an intensive investigation and execution? Cor had already put his foot down on Prompto’s future interviews. The omega was to be left alone and treated like normal. When and if the gunner was healthy Cor would personally conduct the interviews about the experimentation in Niflheim. And healthy meant mentally too. The Marshal was in the process of finding the most trust worthy and professional therapists, psychologists, and doctors possible. The last thing Cor wanted was a Magitek losing his mind and creating absolute chaos. Prompto’s sanity would be for the benefit of all.

How soon could they return to the trials though? With monitored potion use and good care, Noctis might be ready in a week or so. Gladio and Prompto could be fully bound in around three weeks. Except they’d have to train a bit now. They’d all have to relearn to balance themselves with the advantage of extra energy flowing amongst them. Maybe Gladio and Prompto could start training after a week? They’d regain their senses and might not mind the activity of training as long as they could be together.

“I’m gonna start with the potatoes, okay, Iggy?”

“Okay.”

But regaining their senses would probably lead to mating. Probably. The hospital had given them a heavy dose of heat and rut suppressants just to make sure Prompto’s body wouldn’t overexert itself too soon. Oh, but that meant training would probably be out of the question too. And just because their bodies wouldn’t go into carnal overdrive didn’t mean they wouldn’t mate anyway. Most planned mate bonds start with a mate bite as well (although it never fills up with fluid and didn’t need any more care). And most unplanned mating occurs after the first stage, what with the two bodies so sensitive to each other.

“Hey, Iggy, I forgot to tell you. Mom and I meant up with Mrs. Argentum.”

“Oh?”

“She is taking suppressants too. I mean, not illegal ones. Since her mate died and all. Mom says it happens when an omega loses a mate bond.”

“Yes, it’s not uncommon.” Ignis replied, glad for the intrusion of his thoughts. “Sometimes older individuals that lose their mates are unable to bond again and suppressants are a good option for older omegas.”

“Why?”

“Why to the suppressants?”

“No, I mean why no bonding?”

“Glands break down. Bodies decay. Losing a mate can ruin one’s ability to smell and perceive correctly. You might not want to bond again. There are many reasons.”

People bonded, yes. It was natural and okay. But one only had a single mate in life and once that piece was gone it was like severing off limb. Scents glands didn’t always function right. Smells became off at times. Bonding again meant trying use an appendix that had been permanently damaged. It wasn’t unheard of for mates to die within a year or two of each other. Except, of course, omegas who had to go on living because they had instinctual motivation to see that everybody is happy.

“Oh,” Iris replied softly, thinking to herself. Mate bonding was still a faraway notion for the teenager.

“Did she speak of anything else? Mrs. Argentum?”

“Oh, yeah,” Iris’s voice returned to its normally charming tone. “She’s a nurse. Because she’s an omega. So, like, of course she is. The Glaive is going to try to find her a place and job closer to the citadel. She was very nice. Quiet. Kind of, um, skittish? Is that a word?”

“It is.”

“My mom and dad were there for the interview. I only helped my mom escort her home later. But we stopped for something to eat and, like, she talked about being terrified we were going to kill her or send her back to Niflheim. My mom said she was personally going to make sure she gets all the correct paperwork to stay in Insomnia. Prompto too. I guess until now all their documented stuff is fake. Like, it said they were both born in Lucis.”

Well, that did make sense. Niflheim refugees held a stigma of being spies and terrorists for the Empire. Ignis couldn’t quite get in such a mindset but he had seen the court bicker about what to do with the ‘refuge problem’ on many occasions. Ignis didn’t see a problem. A country was shredding itself apart, mad with power, and its citizens were seeking asylum. Of course its people were fleeing.

“This lady works like fourteen hour shifts,” Iris continued. “The Glaive don’t even work that long, well, not most of the time. But she didn’t seem upset, just sort of sleep deprived. My mom told me not to ask her about Prompto, so I didn’t. But later I heard his mom couldn’t deal with him. Or she tried to but, like, she needed help herself. Not that I’m upset or anything. It’s just Prompto was always so happy, you know?”

“Well, I suppose if all we walk in is sunlight then we never have to face our personal daemons,” Ignis smiled at her sadly.

Iris took a deep breath, attempted to say something, and then ended up just nodding.

“Which is not to say you should treat Prompto any differently,” Ignis added.

“Oh, no,” Iris shook her head. “I would never. Well, I mean, I’m pretty sure he’ll be like a brother to me soon. Not that he isn’t already. Just, like, more so.”

Ignis smiled. “Oh? Do you expect them to mate?”

Iris gave Ignis a serious smirk. “Be glad you didn’t have any siblings. Gladio tried to get away with jerking off on school nights at, like, two in the morning. I got out my voice recorder one time, cause, like, I had a test the next day and I was super pissed off. Blackmail, you know. But I never want to hear Prompto’s name said like that again.”

Ignis laughed. “I’m sure your brother thanks you for telling me that.”

Iris smiled back. “Anytime you want blackmail I’m your girl. Oh! I forgot to tell you!”

“Yes?”

“The court had a session today. They’re calling for some ball.”

“You were called to court?” Ignis gave her a suspicious look.

“Iggy,” she eyed him sideways, “when am I ever called to court?”

Oh, Iris. Her awkward young teenage years had given way for a masterful rogue to emerge. Want to know what was happening in the basements? In the wine cellars? In the kitchens? In the guest corridors? At the training grounds? She knew. And she knew because nobody expected sweet, loveable Iris of anything.

“Anyway, they’re really angry about everything. They’re mad at Noctis for not being ‘a proper alpha’ for his pack,” the last words she mocked a prim-and-proper court voice, sticking her nose in the air. “So they told the king they should have a ball to celebrate that Noctis has successfully finished three trials. ‘Cause it’s not like he’s going to be ready to leave again right away. But the ball is supposed to be, like, next week. I think they’re trying to come up with an excuse to show Noctis that his two pack members shouldn’t bind to each other. You know, they want Gladio and Prompto to, like, I don’t know, pass out at the ball or for Gladio to lose it and punch somebody.”

“And what did the king think of all this?”

“Dunno, but I know what my dad thought,” Iris replied. “And he isn’t happy. He thinks we should send all the nobles to the front lines and let them throw a ball for the Niffs. Cor tried to bring up his plan to have the court tour Lucis but they kind of brushed him off again and said they had better things to do than worry about what could be fixed after the war ended.”

Of course they didn’t worry about that. None of them really thought about the smaller towns of Lucis that were piles of rubble and infested with rotten souls of those overtaken by the scourge. As far as they were concerned the Hunters could take care of the world while the wall retreated back. Some of the court had money invested in the Hunters as well; big business in weapons and using fear for profit.

Besides, the court had no idea what really made up the world. Daemons were just part of this far away threat of the Starscrouge – it’d never really trouble Insomnia. The Kingsglaive and Lucis army could continue to defend and protect the main cities forever (despite the destruction of the Galahd province nearly twenty years ago – that was just ‘a flub’, no big deal). Tenebrae could free itself. Noctis could repower the Wall to encompass the entire kingdom for another twenty some years just like his father before him and his grandmother before that, on and on. Just like all the Lucian loyalty; twenty some years of no scourge and then twenty some years of just Insomnia being protected while the next in line grew up and took their trials. All the while Niflheim’s warring tantrum grew more powerful and progress on a cure for the scourge still without advancement.

That was just how it worked. One day the war would end. One day a cure of the Starscrouge would be discovered (outside the oracles of Tenebrae). One day Lucis would completely rebuild and everybody would live happily – and richly – ever after. At least for the nobles of Insomnia anyway.

None of them really thought about the strain the crystal really was on the Lucian line either. None of them were out in the middle of the night in the wilds in pouring rain looking for a lost pack member because Noctis needed his friend – needed his entire pack – just to make the court able to keep their lives of cushy prosperity.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Iris spoke quietly.

“Hm?” Ignis hadn’t even realized he had clenched the wooden soup spoon so hard it had broken in two. “Oh.” He sighed and went to rummage in the drawers for a pair of tongs to remove it.

Iris tried a change of subjects. “Weskham and some Glaives still have that investigation going on into a few court members. The ones that own the artillery company. I heard they found some new connections to buyers in Niflheim.”

“That’s good,” Ignis replied absent-mindedly, returning to the broth to retrieve the broken half of the spoon.

“Are you sure you want to cook tonight?” Iris paused her work.

Ignis shook his head, “I apologize. It was rather distracting news and I already have much to think about it.”

“I just wanted to give you a warning.”

“And I appreciate it.” Ignis said, his thoughts idling on the prince back in their quarters. He thought about how old and battered Regis often looked despite the king still maintaining his position. How was he ever going to keep Noctis on his feet with all the demands of Lucis? Of all the things to request now they expected him to dress up, dance around, and pretend everything is perfectly fine? In the middle of his arm trials? Just to make some asinine point about who should bond with whom? No doubt the court had already told the public who would be excitedly waiting to hear all about the event.

“Oh! Oh! One more thing!” Iris babbled, trying to change the subject again. “Right in the middle of court a dog showed up.”

“Whose dog?”

“Oh, it wasn’t anybody’s in the court. Nobody knew who it belongs to. It just sort of showed up under a table and walked right out into the middle of everything. I guess they think it snuck in and was sleeping under the table until everybody started shouting. It barked at the king.”

“Was it aggressive?”

“No,” Iris giggled. “It seemed to think it was a member of the court too. Until the Glaive started to chase it out. You’d think specially trained killers wouldn’t have a problem catching a dog. I don’t know if they caught it or not. I hope not. I hope it’s off peeing on all the chairs of the court.”

Ignis agreed.

The rest of the time passed with no more court talk. Iris spoke about her schoolmates, music, movies and general gossip in the citadel. Ignis was thankful for the ordinary discussions. He was glad the lively girl’s infatuation with the prince never turned sour; it allowed the advisor and Shield’s sister to be close friends. And it was nice to have a break from the pack to talk about simple things.

They ate in good spirits, cleaned up, finished the laundry, and parted ways (Iris promising to study later). Once back in the large hallway Iris ran into her parents who both greeted Ignis fondly and asked for a quick update on their son. Neither smelled nor showed any signs of being angry or disappointed. If anything, the pair was just as excited as their daughter.

When Ignis returned home his heart had a few moments of panic. Something smelled like fire and like something had died? All the lights were on….

Noctis sat on the kitchen floor, back pressed against cabinets, using his good arm to rub at his shoulder that was still in a sling.

“Did you try to cook?” Ignis glanced at the burnt, still smoking substance in a frying pan. Was that once a fish?

Noctis pouted. “Yes.”

The advisor set the pot of soup down he’d brought with and sat down next to his mate. “Perhaps you shouldn’t cook with only one arm available and heavy pain medication in you, yes?”

Noctis leaned on him. “Are they okay?”

“Everything is okay. Don’t worry.” Ignis sighed, wrapping on arm around Noct. The advisor wanted to add: ‘at least for now’ but knew better. Ignis could smell that helpless, bitter stench that Noct got when self-loathing and doubt overtook him and the crystal just amplified that. The prince needed a calm, cool scent to brace himself against.

“I think I ruined the pans.”

“Pans?”

“I threw some away. There’s two in the bathroom. I filled the tub with hot water and dish soap.”

“Well,” Ignis replied, planting a kiss on prince’s head. “I guess it’s a good thing Gladio’s kitchen is free for the next couple of days. I’ll start to warm up the soup-”

“Can we just sit here for a bit?”

“Yes, of course.” Ignis settled closer to the prince. He wondered if Noct had already been notified of an upcoming ball. The advisor took a deep breath and began to idly run his hands through Noct’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the exceedingly nice comments and kudos while I failed to update for a while. I'm honored. They mean a lot to me. I'll try to finish up soon. :) Have a beautiful day you wonderful people.


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